


It's my party

by Snedlimpan



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Best Friends, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hufflepuff! Ann, Magic, Slytherin! Anne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22401658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snedlimpan/pseuds/Snedlimpan
Summary: Finally joinging my love for victorian WLWs and my burning intrest of the wizarding world of Harry Potter. I know it's been done before, but I've decided to add this fic to the pile of Hogwarts Ann(e)s.The Slyhering Prefect Anne Lister, a resourceful young witch, meets the introversted and shy Hufflepuff prefect the year under her, Ann Walker. Realising that they probably have more in common than expected, they become the unlikely friends no one expected.
Relationships: Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 103





	1. Chaper one

The Prefects’ bathroom on the fifth floor were exquisite, from the giant pool to the shining, marble floor and the enormous windows, the stunning view was comparable to a Roman Bath. Hidden behind the portrait of Boris the Bewildered, it was a place of relaxation for Anne Lister. Naturally, she would only sneak up here after hours, since she refused bathing with other people. It wasn’t as much of a privacy issue, she was used to that, being a Quidditch-player, no it was more of the fact that the other Prefects was incapable of shutting up and given the high ceiling and stone floors and walls, it echoed. A lot. She disliked in particular that Gryffindor, fifth-year Prefect, who also happened to be their Quiddichteam’s keeper. He could boast only in the way a Gryffindor can; over the top of his lungs and not a shred of discretion. Anne Lister didn’t have to boast about her knowledge and actions, she simply let her greatness speak for itself, she thought to herself, smugly.

Anne Lister of Shibden Hall, from one of the sacred 28, was indeed a rather resourceful young witch. Being intelligent, ambitious and cunning, she was sorted into Slytherin. She remembered the hat choosing between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, until exactly 23 seconds in (she had counted them), it decided upon Slytherin. Anne hadn’t really had a preferred House, she had suspected to fall into the green/silver or the blue/bronze, so she was neither surprised nor disappointed. Needless to say, she had always felt welcomed and at home in the dungeon common room, although, she admitted, the location deep in the castle made it slightly difficult to sneak out of bed. But Anne Lister isn’t the one who to back down from a challenge.

Unfortunately, her friend (and occasional lover-ish? It's complicated) Mariana wasn’t as brave as her. It just wasn’t as fun to sneak around the castle as it had been with her. When they had found the secret tunnels out of the castle and smelling the fresh air of forest, rearranging the statues and portraits or making out in that special room on the 7th floor. Those were the nights she lived for.

She submerged herself under the surface of the pool-water with a Bubble-head Charm, thinking about old, simpler times before that Lawton-fellow came along. In hindsight, she should have been suspicious over the fact that Mariana started to request bringing _Charles_ more frequently on their adventures. She made bubbles with her wand, trying to make them look like the boy who stole Mariana from her, and then slicing them with her wand. _Charles Lawton_ , what a pathetic boy with a pathetic name. It felt really satisfying the first time, the second not so much, and not at all the third time. So, Anne decided to stick her head out of the water again, the pressure had started to get to her ears, and when doing so, she spotted something unexpectantly. She wasn’t alone anymore.

Before her stood a girl from the year below her, a Hufflepuff if she remembered correctly. She was standing with her back turned against Anne, while undressing, humming quite loudly. Anne pondered what to do, she had never, not even once, been stumbled upon here in the middle of the night, especially since it is a guaranteed Mariana-free zone. She could see three possible courses of action:

  1. She makes her present know immediately, probably startling the girl, but being honest of not trying to spy on her naked body.
  2. Do nothing and wait for the girl to turn around and spotting Anne for herself, realising that she had been there all along without saying anything while she had been undressing and humming.
  3. Cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself, sparing both of them the embarrassment.



Really, the question was where on the scale from Honest to Asshole she felt like placing herself on today. She had already cast a rather nasty jinx after that Lawton-boy today, so she probably was in need of good karma. With an internal sigh, she cleared her voice loudly. The girl jumped and her wand emitted a loud, red spark which left a black mark on the white marble wall. She turned around a millisecond later, still clutching her wand tightly. Anne could see in the girl’s face that she wasn’t angry or embarrassed, as Anne would've been. No, she was frightened as if expecting to see her axe-murderer right before her own demise. Pfft, typically Hufflepuffs, Anne thought, somewhat amused.

“Good evening.” She said, unnecessarily pompous, with a barely contained smirk. The girl simply stared and blinked at her.

“Well, I would get up to properly introduce myself, but I am as naked as one can be so…. Either way, I am Anne Lister. I don’t think we’ve met before?

Anne looked inquiringly at her new company, whom just couldn’t get out of that paralyzed state. She seemed to, at the very least, relax a little bit now since she had established that she wasn’t about to be killed. She dropped her wand, which let out a few hurtful sparks when it hit the ground. The sparks hit the girl’s ankle, which finally snapped her to senses. It looked a bit comically, but Anne had enough sense not to laugh.

“Ouch, oh shoot! Christ. Ann you complete idiot!”

“Ehm, excuse me??” Who was this girl, calling Anne an idiot? She hadn’t even laughed at her.

“What? No! My name is Ann too. Oh no, I can see why the confusion. And I’m an idiot for dropping my wand, it has unicorn in it, and they say the hair can die if I’m not careful. Not that it matters, since I obviously am a glorified squib…”

Anne felt a tad uncomfortable at the unexpected burst of personal information quickly spoken from this half-naked Hufflepuff girl, whom she had just met. She also felt a slight scepticism at this explanation; who would overshare so much, if it wasn’t just a cover-up for a lie? The girl, whilst cluthing her burnt ankle, clearly in pain, must have sensed this doubt, for she continued,

“No really, my name is Ann… Ann Walker. From... ehm… Halifax!” she looked relieved at remembering her own name and hometown. Was it really true that all Hufflepuffs are a bit slow?

“Alright, miss Ann from Halifax, what are you doing intruding on my bath-hour?” she didn’t mean to sound so intimidating and rude, it just slipped out, just like her resting-wench-pout*. Ann from Halifax looked a bit defeated.

“I couldn’t sleep, and I kept… -kept shivering. Catherine told me to stop it, but I co-couldn’t. Catherine is my friend. And co-cousin, actually. Catherine Rawson.”

“So, you came here to stop shivering?”

“Yes, and I didn’t expect someone to be here already, there usually isn’t at this hour. It’s past midnight? I am so sorry I disturbed you, miss Lister.” She looked as if she was on the brink of tears. Anne felt guilty, since the girl clearly tried to be extra polite after accidentally calling her an idiot.

“Hey, no need to apologise, or to call me miss Lister. Just say Anne.”

Ann from Halifax nodded slightly, but her shoulders still hung alarmingly low. Now that she was sitting down, with the bigger part of the chock gone away, Anne could indeed see that she was shivering.

“Ann, you ought to either get into the warm water, or put some clothes on again. You’ll freeze.”

The Hufflepuff nodded again, looking from the steaming hot water, to the pile of school-robes on the floor. She had, evidently, put on her school-uniform to walk from her dormitory to here, in the middle of the night, when she _should be_ in bed? Bless her, Anne thought, and how curious. She didn’t even seem to take notice of the scotch mark on her ankle anymore.

“It’s a lot warmer in here, and if you keep me company now, I can walk you back to the Hufflepuff common room later.” Anne smiled at the little Ann. She looked a bit happier, but still had some doubts.

“Ann from Halifax, I assure you, my word as a true Lister of Shibden Hall, that I won’t bite you.” Ann looked up from the pile of clothes and directly into Anne’s deep, brown eyes, her own blue eyes lit up as she smiled, as if the last guarantee settled it. She picked up her wand from the floor and polished it a little with the sleeve of her robe. With a slow swish of her wand over the ankle, she quietly healed her injury. Anne was impressed, a healing, non-verbal spell? From someone calling themselves a squib? 

“Alright, miss Lis... Anne! I’ll join you.”

Out of common decency, Anne looked pointedly away while little Ann undressed the last bit and slid carefully down in the water. She lit out a little sigh as the warmth relaxed her shivering body. It struck Anne, just how pretty this girl, her namesake, was. Yet, there was something troubling Anne, so she asked,

“So, Ann from Halifax, what did you mean earlier, with your wand being delicate? You see, I am quite fascinated by wand-lore.”

Ann opened her eyes again, and stared into Anne’s, but looked away quickly, as if burnt by her gaze. Looking down at the pink bubbles, which oddly resembled a boy who was in her own House Ann though, before answering,

“Well, my wand’s core is Unicorn Hair, and Mr. Ollivander told my aunt and me, that those wands aren’t as powerful and is quite delicate, and if mishandled, the hair can ‘die’ and need to be replaced. My aunt said, that since my magic isn’t too strong, I needed to be extra careful with it.”

“She said that, when you were 11? Before actually going to Hogwarts?”

“Well yes, since my older siblings were so adept at magic, they all just supposed… I guess... that I wasn’t.”

She gave Anne a faint smile, as if trying to signal that she was fine. It was all fine. Just perfectly fine.

“Ann… I have never, ever, heard of someone who dropped the magic out of their wand. I don’t think it can happen. Besides, there are plenty of children who don’t show much sign of magic until they’re ‘older’.”

“Where you one of them, Anne?” she looked at Anne with her piercing blue eyes, demanding the truth, whatever it was.

“No… I… I was quite early, I suppose.” Anne smiled apologetically at little Ann from Halifax. How curious, she had never felt the need to apologise for who she was before. She had always, no matter what, held her head up. But now? This was different. She wanted to say the things to make Ann feel better, for some reason unbeknownst to Anne.

“You see, Anne! You probably don’t even know anyone who is as terrible at magic as I am. And then my wand ended up being Willow and Unicorn hair, of course, which is the worst combination they said.” Anne quickly came to think of her sister Marian, before establishing that that was a bit uncalled for.

“They? Who are _they_? Your parents?”

“No, my parents died when I was small... Dragonpox... My siblings and I, we were raised by our other relatives, our Aunt primarily. But I have a whole tribe of them.”

She sighed hopelessly and poured some water over her sad face. Ann looked back up at her, as if struggling with daring to ask a question.

“Anne, what’s your wand?”

Anne picked up her own wand, she was proud and fond of it. She had never had a single issue with it, it always did exactly as she wanted it to, without any fuss. A better wand for her didn’t exist. Turning it over in her hand, its beautifully carved handle, it emitted a warm sensation, telling Anne that it was quite happy over the partnership too.

“Mine is Cedar-wood with a Dragon Heart-string. 13 inches and unyielding.”

“Oh… and what does that say about you?” Anne could see that little Ann looked anxious, as if she was suspecting to find out that Anne played in whole other league than herself. Anne smiled reassuringly, but with a smirk hiding just below the surface.

“Honestly?”

“Yes, honestly!”

“Well honestly, it mostly means that I am an arrogant ass and both my wand and I know it.” She said it abruptly and matter-of-factly. Little Ann looked shocked for a millisecond, then burst out laughing. Anne chuckled a little too, all too pleased with herself after making her newly found friend laugh. They was all too common in Anne's eyes, people who placed much more value in the supposed powers of the wand, forgetting that the witches own ability usually made the difference.

Determinedly to keep little Ann from Halifax happy, she decided to change the subject, instead of berating her family-members for their wand-ignorance.

“So, you’re from Halifax, Ann?” Her new friend was still laughing, so she only nodded as an answer. Anne continued,

“How funny! My ancestral home is located there, Shibden Hall, I visit it a few weeks per summer. I usually, though, spend my time in London.”

“I’m living near Lidgate, in our home called Crow Nest. My father built it.”

“Oh Ann, we’re practically neighbours.” She dared a little flirtatious smile. Little Ann smiled back at her, a hint of blush on her cheeks.

They were quiet a little while, both enjoying the warm water. Anne slid down a little bit further, so her chin was directly above the surface, leaning her head back onto the pool’s edge. She considered Ann Walker. She was indeed a curious thing. If she strained her memory, she could remember seeing her occasionally in the corridors, in the background of the blabbering Catherine Rawson’s gang. Ann seemed to have been given the role of the quiet and cute sidekick. Anne’s own intuition, which was almost always correct, told her, however, that there was a lot more to Ann Walker than met the eye. And now with Mariana being extra much like herself, Anne definitely had the time to figure out just who little Ann was. She was already intrigued, but realised she had to go carefully forward with her, so as not to cross the mark.

Anne was deep in her own thoughts when Ann brought her back. She didn’t like silence while with other people.

“Anne, how come I didn’t see you when I walked in? I am not sure, but I could have sworn, that the pool was empty when I arrived.”

Anne sat up straighter and met little Ann’s carefully curious gaze. She realised that Ann probably was thinking the same about her; that she needed to move carefully forward. It suddenly became a game of wizard’s chess. Well, wasn’t that interesting?

“Well, Ann, I sometimes prefer being under water. It can help me to think straight. I used a Bubble-head Charm, of course. Gilly weed is quite expensive and frankly, too nasty for my taste.” Little Ann looked at her with wonder and admiration. Proud burst out in Anne Lister’s chest before she could stop it.

“I can teach you, if you’d like?” she added.

Ann was just about to answer when there came an odd noise, sort of like a duck's quack, from a pocket of Anne Lister’s neatly folded night-robe. She sighed and rolled her eyes, reaching up after it, with most of her upper body over the surface. In the corner of her eye, she could see little Ann looking at her for a few seconds then turning her head away in that telling “I wasn’t looking!”-way.

The thing that had made the sound was her silver pocket-watch she had gotten as a birthday-gift from her Aunt and Uncle when she had turned six years old. She had wished for it after spotting it in the store where she and her Aunt had visited for “fun”. Last summer, her sister Marian had jinxed it to quack every even-numbered strike; it was obviously two o’clock already. Maybe it was time to make her way down to the dungeons again, to her four-poster bed? She hadn’t forgotten her promise to little Ann in exchange for her company.

“Ann, I think it’s time to go to bed now.” Ann looked visibly disappointed.

“Ann, don’t worry, we’ll meet again soon. I promise. We could play chess? Or even gobstones, I suppose.” Little Ann nodded in agreement, looking a little more cheerful.

They made it out of the pool, Ann a bit flustered. After getting dressed, Anne opened the door quietly and peeked carefully outside. The corridor was deserted. She opened the door more and held it open for Ann to pass her. When the door closed, she offered little Ann an arm and asked, as smoothly as she could,

“Well miss Walker of Halifax and Crow’s Nest, please lead the way to the Hufflepuff common room.”

She had anticipated that Ann would be confused or in any other regard refusing to play the game, but she was surprised. Little Ann simply smiled sweetly, took the arm Anne had offered her and answered,

“Certainly, miss Lister of London and Shibden Hall, nothing would make me happier.”

They smiled at their ridiculous game, which they knew they would stick to henceforth, and started to walk towards the staircase leading down towards the Great Hall and the corridor towards the kitchens.

_*Resting bitch-face was a too modern expression, according to my girlfriend._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As their friendship evolves, a blooming romance flare up.

The end of September had arrived, but with it didn’t appear the cooler autumn-air. One could see a hint of yellow on some of the tree-crowns, but most of the Hogwarts grounds stayed emerald green. Anne Lister couldn’t care less about the weather; she would take her morning walk at precisely 6 o’clock no matter what. The only weather-condition she could make her _consider_ breaking the habit, was a full-blown storm. She would walk a lap around the lake and then towards the Great Hall from breakfast: one cup of black coffee and one single piece of plain toast. Then it was off again to the common room to fetch either her schoolbag or, if it was weekend, a book. With the approaching Quidditch-season, she was sure her weekends would sooner or later be filled with practises.

This morning shouldn’t have been different. It was moderately sunny outside with mild winds, in all regards it was a normal morning. Yet, something was different, because Anne Lister was still in bed by 7 o’clock and first at breakfast around 8.

She had sat down at the Slytherin-table, on a specific seat from where she could spot the entrance perfectly. Hidden behind a Daily Prophet, she was keeping careful lookout after a certain person. She checked her watch, it was 8:43. Anne had been sitting here almost an hour now, she was on her second cup of coffee. With a slightly disapproving expression, she turned her gaze down again, to the article she was somewhat reading. She was getting restless, reading the same paragraph over and over, while fiddling with her coffee-cup mindlessly. And then, at 9:16, her waiting was finally over. In came two girls, one of them completely and utterly insignificant, and the other one the intriguing little Ann from Halifax.

She walked side by side with her friend Catherine Rawson toward the Hufflepuff-table. Anne would definitely approach her at some point, perhaps after she’d had her breakfast in piece. Trying not to stare too obviously, Anne forced herself to continue reading in increasingly small intervals. Lastly, she looked up and gazed over to the neighbouring House-table. Rawson’s friends had joined them, they had circled Catherine, laughing and talking loudly, and by doing so they had,whether unknowingly or purposefully, frozen Ann out of the circle. Anne couldn’t see how her newly found friend reacted to this, since little Ann stared down intensely on her porridge. As the gentleman (woman?) she was, Anne decided to walk over and rescue Ann either way.

She was just about to stand up when her clear view of Ann was completely blocked by her old friend Mariana. Looking down cheerfully at Anne, she sat down immediately opposite of Anne. An immense sense of annoyance bubbled up in Anne’s chest. She was talking about something, probably about that Lawton-boy she was fancying. It wasn’t important, so she didn’t listen, but kept a watchful eye on the Hufflepuff-girl. A hand waving just a few centimetres from her nose disrupted her focus and she met Marianas eyes. They weren’t at all as sparkly as Ann’s is. How disappointing.

“Freddie are you even listening?! You look as if you’re miles away.”

“Mary are you here?! Good Lord, I didn’t notice you there. Next time tell me when you arrive, so I don’t miss you again. I’m sorry, were you saying something?”

With a satisfying feeling she saw the look of anger on her face. She couldn’t help it, pushing Mariana’s buttons was almost as funny as pushing Marian’s. It was almost too easy. Too bad Marian wasn’t sorted in Slytherin, they could’ve had so much fun together. Or at least, Anne could have.

“Now you’re ignoring me **again** , Freddie!”

“Sorry, _dear_ , one more time and I’ll catch it.”

“I was saying, for the third freaking time, that we could spend the day together. It is a beautiful weekend after all, and Charles had to be with his girlfriend. But if you’re just going ignore me, I rather not!”

“So, that Lawton-boy is cheating on someone too? You’re a match made in heaven.” She kept her voice calm, but under that layer, was a hint of spite. She smiled _nicely_ towards Mariana, who was frowning indignantly. She lowered her voice, and hissed to Anne,

“Freddie, I am not cheating with Charles, because I have no one to cheat **on**. I told you, you don’t really count, why can’t you see the reasoning behind it! You're a girl!”

Anne opened her mouth, anger flowing through her, about to retort viciously. But then she stopped. Over Marianas bow-clad, stupid head, she could see little Ann standing up and leaving the breakfast table, crossing the Great Hall in a rather fast speed. It was alarming, Ann usually hated to walk faster than a turtle. Anne rose up,

“Sorry Mary, I have to run. It was nice talking with you, and we will continue this _delightful_ conversation another time. I **promise** you that.” She sent Mariana a Lister death-glare.

With those final words she half-ran to the entrance hall. The blond Hufflepuff-girl was nowhere to be seen. Shit, she thought to herself. She had had one freaking thing to do, and then of course, Mariana ruined it all. If she was heading for the Hufflepuff common room, it would soon be too late. She ran down the little flight of stair leading to the kitchen’s corridor. She skipped the last few steps, landed graciously on the floor and sprinted the way Ann had shown her, toward her dormitory. She rounded the corner, arriving to the great stack of barrels concealing the door. She had heard someone tapping that ridiculous melody, but alas, the door slammed shut as soon as she laid her eyes on it. Was that Ann just going in? Anne looked to the left and right, the corridor was deserted. Should she? She walked apprehensively towards the correct barrels, tried to hear something from inside. It was dead quiet.

On the Slytherin entrance, anyone could knock, either to get in or to draw someone’s attention. It was the same for the Gryffindor’s, she had knocked there several times, back when she had been seeing a girl in Gryffindor. Was this the same? It was worth a go. She knocked loud and clear. What can possibly go wrong?

Apparently, everything. She heard an ominously creaking noise, before being drenched in something, it poured over her from one of the barrels, it spelled awful. It was vinegar. Seething with anger, she kicked that stupid fucking barrel before backing away. She cursed at the barrels, at Hufflepuff’s rude defence-mechanism and stupid freaking Mariana.

“Anne?”

She rounded on the spot with her wand at the ready. Peeking out from a door to a broom-closet was Ann. She looked both amused and sympathetic.

“Anne, did you try to break in?”

“No, I was knocking politely, in case you had gone in there. You looked sad when leaving the Hall.”

Ann was now smirking, as if Christmas had come early this year.

“Were you spying on me, miss Lister?”

“N-no, I wasn’t spying-spying!” Anne looked dumbfounded and was wildly gesticulating with her hands.

“So, you were only harmlessly-spying?” Ann was positively beaming at this chance to mess a little with the infamous Anne Lister. Anne was speechless, sputtering incoherently while trying to find something good to say. Ann interrupted,

“Anne, it is fine by me. But you should really think about changing robes before you ask me if I wanted to… Or whatever you were going to say to me, I mean.”

Anne looked down on her wet robes. She was dripping vinegar all over the place and, aiming her wand at herself, she muttered under her breath,

“Tergeo.” Her robes were dry, but the sour smell lingered. Damn it. Her favourite shirt.

“Ann, I was going to ask if you’d want to go to for a walk with me? I just have to change first.”

“I’d love to, Anne.”

Little Ann was perfectly beaming towards Anne, who couldn’t help feeling joyous, just looking at her friend. And it struck Anne, it was quite obvious, her new friend was in love with her. Wasn’t it so? The girl who was a known eccentric, introverted person, generally avoiding company, was very eager to befriend Anne, who intimidated most people. This had never really happened before, that she wasn’t the first one to catch feelings, the one to instigate it all. Now she was suddenly the sought after, not the soughtee. She didn’t exactly know how to proceed, but she felt a thrill.

“So, do you want to follow me to the Slytherin common room? I can sneak you in…? Otherwise we could meet in the Entrance Hall.”

“Can you really do that? Sneak me in?” Ann looked surprised

“Yes, we don’t pour foul-smelling liquids over guests. Besides, it’s just a password.”

Ann looked down sideways on the floor, biting her lip while considering this.

“All the others will be outside, or in detention, by now, it’s already half past ten.”

She looked up again, meeting Anne’s brown eyes, as if looking into her soul. It felt peculiarly comforting, and oddly familiar.

“Lead the way, miss Lister.”, she said to Anne, with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in her eyes, and Anne felt something, for just a second, flutter in the pit of her stomach. This could, and would, lead to something great.

Three minutes later they stood before a stone-wall in the dungeons. Anne turned towards little Ann and pointed her wand at her. A white flash later, and Ann was almost impossible to spot. She looked at Anne with a confused expression, after she had looked at her own hands, realising they looked exactly like the stone-wall behind her.

“Just in case there really is someone in there. I’ll lift it soon again.” Then she turned yet again to the wall, saying the password. It opened up the little passageway into the green-lit room, and the both Ann(e)s walked inside. There was no one there, as Anne had expected, she lifted the charm from Ann.

It was a peculiar feeling, showing an outsider your common room, as if it really was your own home, and the very thought of it being perceived as messy, dirty or unorganised was agony. Anne was suddenly aware of the mess on the coffee-tables, the dark spot on one of the couches and the newspapers on the floor. If it wasn’t decorated in green, a green and silver snake-banner on the walls, the very state of the room would suggest it was the Gryffindor common room, she thought as she gave a barely audible scoff. But her Hufflepuff friend didn’t seem to mind it at all.

Ann was quickly drawn to the underwater windows facing the lake. Standing closely, she almost pressed her nose to the glass, as if expecting to see fishes swim by. While little Ann was examining the room, Anne sneaked off to her dormitory to change quickly. She threw her clothes into a pile on the floor, disgusted. Roaming her drawers, she found and found her Slytherin quidditch-sweater, which she immediately went for. Anne walked over to the mirror and pinned her Prefect-badge proudly onto her chest. She met her own gaze then gave herself a smug smile, full of confidence.

When she returned, Ann had clearly seen everything she wanted to and sat perched on one of the sofas by the fire. Her face lit up when Anne showed up again.

“It’s quite cosy in here, but maybe a bit gloomy. I don’t think I would like it much when it’s dark outside.” She said, matter-of-factly, still smiling at Anne, when she sat down next to Ann, but with an appropriate distance.

“Yes, it can get quite dark in here, it’s not optimal reading-conditions. The first spell I had to learn was Lumos.”

“Do you ever see some lake-creatures in the window?”

“I haven’t, but there’s a boy in the third year, a complete tool really, called Hinscliff who claim he once saw the giant squid pressed against the window.” Anne explained, but added quickly, “Probably just to scare the first-years.”

They locked eye-contact. She had beautiful eyes, Anne thought for the fifty-eleventh time. Just as blue as the ocean, with a playful twinkle in them. As subtle she could be, she scotched closer to Ann, leaning her head a little to the side and smiled that flirtatious smile she had practised on. She moved her gaze to look at Ann’s lips instead, wondering if she’d be into it. Right now, she was most certainly flirting back, almost indicating she wanted to be kissed. I mean they’ve known each other for what? Three weeks by now. And they had actually met after that bathroom-incident, so one couldn’t say they were strangers. At all. There was definitely a spark, as it had been with Mariana, that back-stabbing skunk, two mere years ago.

Anne had decided. She leaned in closer to Ann, who had started breathing a bit heavier. She wanted to be kissed, Anne was sure. And she was going to do it. She was a centimetre away, she could breathe in Ann’s scent, she smelled like vanilla, and their noses touched. She had, without noticing, placed her hand on little Ann’s cheek and Ann was in return grasping her other hand, which she had delicately placed on little Ann’s thigh. It was a glorious moment. It felt as if nothing could go wrong. The world had stopped, all that mattered was here and now. Anne’s heart beating fast and the flutter in her stomach returned, with full force. Of course, Mariana just had to ruin it.

“So, this is who you’ve replaced me with. Are you serious, Freddie?”

The Ann(e)s broke a part and jumped out of the sofa. Anne was furious and Ann was worried, Mariana just stood there, looking gleefully at the mess she created.

“Oh Freddie, Freddie, Freddie… I know she’s not a Slytherin, do you know it’s against school-rules to break in? And two prefects nonetheless!” She was moving forward, shortening the distance between them. She demanded her presence being both noticed and felt.

“I know you’re just trying to make me jealous, but going after ‘Nerve-wreck Walker’? I never thought that about you, it’s quite the down-trade, you know. Why would you play with her feeling, when you clearly stated you wanted me back?”

“Shut. It. Mariana. And then get lost.” But the damage was already done. A quick glance at Ann could tell it, she was in tears. Refusing, to meet anyone’s eyes, stared pointedly at her feet and said,

“I ha-have to… to go now, Anne.” And then darted across the room without a second glance; Anne being unable to call after her. It was over, even before it began. She glared at the smug Mariana, and for the first time ever mastered a non-verbal spell, the first one she came to think about: _Flipendo_!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you lowkey dislike me for ruining their relationship, you're not the first one. I was accused of "turning everything happy, sad" and "uncapable of writing something that isn't sadness" by my loving and supporting girlfriend. I apologise, y'all, but it's a chronic thing.


	3. Chapter 3

_Is it possible to tell the future? The Professor of Divination would immediately say yes, perhaps because their provision relied on it, or maybe because they actually believe so. Others would profoundly argue that fortune-telling is impossible, that time is such a complex thing, humans can’t possibly fathom it. But, I daresay most of us, would simply not know. As much of a question it is for Physics, it can easily stretch into the realm of Philosophy as well. For we can all agree there is such a thing as ‘Future’, but is it predisposed? Is there such a thing called destiny? Or does it all just hang on millions of accidents, tiny fractions that plays into the overall picture? One of these suggests that fortune-telling is indeed possible, whereas the other one settles for the opposite conclusion._

_A famous physicist once compared the importance of an event with the light emitting from a flashlight; it spreads equally forward in all directions from one single point. One thing that was once outside this cone of light, could in time, have moved forward and entered the lit section. This mean, in people words, that something that seemed distant and irrelevant to me in the past, have come to affect me personally as time progressed. For us humans, it means that we have no single freaking clue to know what is life-changing and what isn’t. When we’re older, we can in hindsight decide what mattered and what didn’t. Does this put an end to the discussion about indeterminism contra fatalism, and fortune-telling as a whole? And as for the future-telling, can one really predict when and where the object will move into the cone of light? You probably wonder why this is relevant right now, and I’ll get to that, if you even understand this midnight rambling of mine, poorly translated into my second language._

_Anne Lister had often wandered around these subjects in her thoughts. She never really came to a satisfactory answer, as do I, the narrator, she simply had to state that it didn’t matter. Most of the time you’re oblivious to the importance of an event, sometimes to its very existence, you aren’t in the cone of light yet. All you can know, is what is here and now, and what used to be. But then there come these moments, where you just know. When you feel it with every fibre of your body, that you have reached a crossroad. When you’ve fucked up so badly, there is no going back. And this is exactly what happened in the Slytherin Common room, that day when Anne used the knock-back jinx on one of her oldest friends, Marianna Belcombe._

* * *

Marianna was laying sprawled on the stone floor of the Slytherin Common room. The jinx’s sheer ferocity had thrown her back several metres and it was darn luck she hadn’t knocked her head severely. As she was blinking away the twinkling stars on black background, she could only see in front of her, Anne stood over her, with a mixed sense of victory, guilt and regret coursing through her. Even though she’d wanted to cause Mary some pain and discomfort, she hadn’t intended for it to be this strong. The lowered her wand, noticing her hand shook, of what she wasn’t exactly sure. She put her Cedar-wand back in her self-crafted holster, hanging by her left hip, and offered Mary a hand up.

They’ve had fights before, an even worse than this one, if you measure them in bodily harm, but for some reason there was this inclination, that this particular fight had created a crack between them. Nonetheless, Mary accepted her help up. She seemed fine enough, maybe a bit dizzy, but she could stand on her own accord. Their eyes met, as much as Anne disliked a few sides in her friend, she didn’t want to cut contact completely. Mary had been her first real friend, and she definitely didn’t want to waste all those memories of childhood adventures. She wanted them to remain happy memories, not turn them into something bittersweet nostalgia.

They continued to look at each other, both considering what had happened, and how to move forward. No one wanted to be the one breaking the silence. This was a test of endurance and stubbornness, both wanted to win and to lose.

“Freddie.”

“Mary.” They had broken the silence at the same time. They smiled faintly, and the anger flooded Anne’s system again.

“Mary, I know you felt like you had some unfinished business with me, but you had no freaking right to talk to Ann like that.”

“Freddie… We go way back, and we’ve had some quite spectacular adventures together. _~~Do you remember that night we spent in the Room of Requirement?~~_ But you see, I have to be with Charles now, I want to be with Charles. But that doesn’t mean you can just... replace me like that.” she waved her hands, frustrated.

“I, Anne, replacing you, Mary?” Wasn’t it Marianna replacing Anne with that Lawton-fellow?

“Yes, replacing me with little miss Walker! You should just hear what I’ve heard about her, she is so out of balance at times. Apparently, she’s been in the hospital-wing several times, just because of her night terrors. At times, she only consumes Pepper-Up potion, because there is no way to contact her, she completely shuts down. And that is not a person fit for either you, or us.”

“Mary, she seems quite normal, just lacks confidence.”

“I am telling you; she is a complete invalid. And basically, a squib as well, which says a lot, considering what a noble family she comes from! Freddie, you can’t actually be serious with this…”

“Who told you this?”

“Harriet Parkhill, she is a relative I think, to the Walkers. I heard her chat about it the other day. Apparently, Walker have been out of her senses since her parents died.”

“I really do not want to know all this. I especially, don’t want to hear it from someone else than Ann. Besides anyone would be ‘out of their senses’ if their parents died. Or at least if you’d liked them.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your parents, I don’t see why you just keep running to your Aunt.”

They glared at each other, Marianna looking incredulously at Anne, who saw Mary for the first time ever, as she really was. She had known of course, about Mary’s obsession at being seen with the finest person in the room, her wanting of being part of someone else’s glory, rather than creating her own. When had this parting happened? Anne couldn’t believe it was recently, just because Anne had sought a friendship in little Ann. This relatively trivial thing couldn’t simply be the sole reason, could it? It made Anne furious, being the scapegoat of this burning trashcan, which was now their friendship.

“Look, Fred, I have to run. I’m meeting Charles soon, but you’ve got to listen to me. She is bad news; she’ll get you involved and then… I don’t know, you’ll turn just as crazy as her or something. And by the way, your hair smells like vinegar, you might want to do something about it.”

“Mary, what the actual f…” Anne started, but she had already disappeared.

It was rich of her, back-talking little Ann, telling Anne she was smelling and then just running away to be with Charles. Anne was still grumpy, and full-blown anger threatened to overcome her at any given moment, like waves, coming and going. 

From her pocket, she could hear her watch quack, and it reminded her of two things; the first thing was that it was twelve o’clock and she could’ve been outside in the sun with Ann by now, and the second thing was an uninvited image of her sister Marian. Anne didn’t care for gossip, and so she didn’t listen to it, but Marian did. If there was some information on little Ann, Marian would know. Hopefully, she wasn’t hiding away in Ravenclaw tower, reading or sewing or whatever she was doing. Anne had had enough experience of messing with other Houses’ common rooms today.

Thankfully, she found Marian in the school-grounds, sitting with her friends under an oak tree. As she had searched the grounds after her sister, she couldn’t help noticing the absence of little Ann. She definitely saw Rawson, and her group of friends, even Parkhill was there. Anne cursed herself for knowing too many names from her sister’s year. On the other side of the Herbology-garden, she could spot Mary and Charles sneaking around the green-houses, no doubt seeking privacy.

She marched determinedly toward her sister, about to interrupt her fun day, ignoring every impulse to run over and ruin Mary’s time with Charles instead. She towered over her sister and her friends like a scary demon, casting a long shadow over the younger girls, who threw half-scared, half-annoyed glances toward her. She silently dared them to mess with her, before directing her gaze towards Marian, saying,

“I need to talk to you, now. It’s urgent.”

“Ehm… Anne, does it have to be this exact moment, I am kind of …busy, actually.”

“ **Now** , Marian.” Anne began walking away toward a more secluded area of the grounds, knowing her younger sister would follow. And true enough, she wasn’t wrong. They two Listers stopped behind a pine-tree quite near the lake. Marian looked inquiringly at her older sister, a mixture of curiosity and irritation. Anne didn’t quite know how to phrase her question, she felt rather awkward about it, moving in completely foreign territory. She avoided Marian’s gaze, staring at a chaffinch bird perched over them on a branch, until she realised her sister growing restless. She sighed.

“Marian… I want you to… sigh… tell me the gossip surrounding Ann Walker. Please.”

Marian now changed expression, looking incredulously at her sister, whom she quite clearly regarded as an idiot.

“Anne, seriously?! I wanted to gossip with you all summer, with you telling me ‘it’s for the weak-minded’ and ‘shallow souls’, for you to drag me from my friends this right instance with your patented ‘older sister authority’!”

“Yes, but Marian, this is important, unlike the usual stuff that comes out of your mouth.” Anne knew this would only fire up her sister, making her more inclined to actually tell her things, hoping it would offend Anne in the process. That is why she was so surprised to see Marian just turn around and leave.

“Wait, Marian! Please come back.” She grabbed her sister’s hand resolutely. Marian stopped in her tracks and turned around.

“Normally, when you want someone to help, you act nice to them, Anne. Right now, you have the same finesse of a horse’s ass, and I don’t care much for it.” She sneered venomously.

“But Marian, this is our sisterly jargon, when are we ever nice-nice with each other?”

“I am nice to you often! Otherwise you just send a well-thought of jinx after me! And don’t bring that quacking watch up again as an example, please?! I did it **one** flipping time, and I have apologised already.”

“Fair enough, _even if I still haven’t found a way to remove the jinx, after three years._ Can you please, Marian, my own flesh and blood, my only and dearest sister, be so kind to tell me what you’ve heard about Ann Walker, the Hufflepuff prefect in your year?”

With a look of amused scepticism, Marian sighed. She decided to come with a snide remark,

“Has this something to do with the rumour that Ann is the latest of your latest pursues?”

“… perhaps… but mostly to do with Marianna being who she is.”

“Okay fine. What I’ve heard is that she lost her parents and older brother to dragonpox, not at the same time but like two years a part. Her sister is already married and out of Hogwarts, apparently, she married some Muggle-captain and isn’t so fond of magic. This left Ann Walker alone in their house, her relatives don’t really care for her unless it got something to do with her Walkers’ vault in Gringotts.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I listen when people talk, Anne. I also have the habit of staying and listening to the answer if I asked a question.”

“Is that all you know?” she asked, letting the snide remark slide, this time.

“Hmm, no not really. I just don’t know how to phrase the next part… it is rumoured that is _unstable_.”

When Anne didn’t seem to understand this as well as Marian had evidently hoped, she continued somewhat reluctantly.

“I have Charms, Potions and Care for Magical Creatures with her, Anne, and she misses quite a few classes. It wasn’t as much previous years, but this O.W.L-year seem to take a toll on her. Those times I’ve sat next to her she’s been really shy and awkward, almost intimidated. But then again, most people are, since I am related to a big Slytherin Ogre.”

“Thanks for the info and the insult, Marian. Was that all?”

“No, just one more thing: is it true you two were making out in the Slytherin common room?”

“Thank you, Marian. Bye-bye`, I’ve got to go find her now.” With red cheeks, Anne marched away from her sister. She needed to think, in peace and quiet. She headed up towards the 7th floor corridor to visit the Room of Requirement, but on her way there, she kept a careful look-out after her missing friend. Little Ann from Halifax was still nowhere to be seen.

The Room turned into a cosy little space, green and blue decoration, with a fire burning in a crate. She sat down in a brown leather armchair that fit her body-size perfectly well. From a distance, she could hear Bach’s music-piece “Air” play, she knew, of course, that the sound was emitted from this room and could be heard in this room alone.

She leaned back in the chair. It was indeed curious, she though, how the image she had gotten of Ann didn’t at all resemble what everyone else thought of her. The Ann she had met in the bathroom a few weeks ago, wasn’t invalid-looking at all. Yes sure, she was a bit shy and maybe a little awkward at times, but she quickly overcame that in Anne’s presence. And that burn she retrieved on her ankle from dropping her wand had quickly been healed by little Ann herself, using a non-verbal spell! How could that be explained, if she was “practically a squib”? it didn’t add up.

She rose up and started walking up and down the room. The music still playing feebly and the fire cracking ever more loudly. People always had a lot to say about others, especially when the person in question wasn’t present, Anne had learnt this several years ago. At times she wondered what people might say about her, it only lasts a few week seconds before she knocked those unsolicited doubts away. But then again, the most interesting thing Marian had said by the lake wasn’t about Ann, but of Anne herself; “most people are intimidated by me, since I am related to a big Slytherin Ogre”. If people were wary of Marian, the nicest and most thoughtful person in the family, because she happened to be the sister of Anne, didn’t that say a lot about how people viewed the older Lister sister?

She stopped walking and looked out of a window that just appeared. She could see the school-grounds from here, she looked out over all the Hogwarts students enjoying a sunny Saturday outside. Her sister was still there, playing gobstones it looked like. Catherine Rawson’s company was still without Ann, and by the look of it, they hadn’t bothered searching for her. It indicated that they either didn’t care, or that this happened quite frequently.

Did Anne agree with people’s idea of her? Was Anne Lister scary? Was she mean? Did she even care? Difficult questions to answer about yourself. Anne knew she was determined and head-strong, but was she rude? Yes, if someone gave her a reason to be, but that was true for a lot of others. She didn’t provoke people purposefully, although some was provoked by her simply for the way she is. But was she scary? She didn’t attack people; she didn’t use her powers simply to step over people. One couldn’t say she used them for good, but not for evil either. Why were they afraid of her then? She hadn’t really given them one solid reason to.

Anne concluded that the image she had been given by the public opinion was incorrect; it lacked several of her more positive sides. These qualities were ignored, for the sake of maintaining this faulty perceived picture of who Anne Lister was. This conclusion opened up a new set of questions. Had she then misjudged others? But more importantly, was Ann also subjugated to this narrowminded bullshit? Was her idea of Ann Walker more or less correct? Would Ann let her know the real Ann Walker from Halifax, after hearing what Marianna said? Did Ann already know what people whispered behind her back or did this come as a chock? What if she thought that Anne agreed with Marianna, that she simply had let Ann on as a practical joke?

Anne rushed out of the Room of Requirement. She had to locate little Ann, before her doubts would harden into solid concrete. She had to find her friend with the perfect blue eyes and golden locks before it was all too late. Where was she?!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne seeking comfort and advice in an old, dear friend

Hogwarts was a huge castle, a quality Anne usually liked, however it was rather bothersome when you had to locate something or someone. Frankly, Ann could be anywhere. It was worse than searching for the needle in the haystack, for her friend probably didn’t want to be found. And Anne had a growing feeling that little Ann knew more about magic than she let on. Besides, regardless of that part of the problem, their friendship was still newly formed, she didn’t know all the secrets of her, in particular, where her hiding-places were.

For a long time, Anne simply roamed up and down the castle, hoping for a sudden epiphany on her friend’s whereabouts. She didn’t want to try Hufflepuff Common room again, that location was ignored for now, and only as a last resort would she return there. On one or two occasions, Anne pondered why she even bothered with this. It wasn’t like she didn’t have other friends, excluding Mary, so she wasn’t in dire need of company. Was she simply playing the good Samaritan, or had she a hidden agenda with this, that not even Anne herself could see?

As long as you don’t repeat your stupid habit, Anne, she thought to herself. In the past she had made the stupid decision in going after a cute girl she fancied, despite better knowing. They always left her after a certain amount of time. She always ended up crying on Marianna’s shoulder, while she made up plans meeting someone else. God, she wasn’t just a terrible love-interest, now that Anne thought about it. She was also a shit friend. Maliciously, she wondered if Lawton knew what mess he had signed up for, playing with Mary.

She sat outside in the courtyard, by the fountain. It was well into the afternoon by now and still not a single glimpse of the missing Hufflepuff. She leaned her elbows against her knees, resting her tired head in her hands.it felt like she had searched each and every corner of this castle, except the one place she wasn’t permitted to entire. What now? Speak to Catherine Rawson? The head of Hufflepuff? Pathetic and laughable plan C’s. Anne had a fleeting impression that her friend would be even more upset with her, if she alerted teachers and relatives. She looked up. From overhead, Anne had heard a bird singing, quite loud and clear. It was yet another chaffinch bird, not surprisingly, since it was one of the most common birds in the UK. How did she know this? Where had she learnt this? Anne shook her head; she knew too much about trivial matters.

The school-bells rang, gathering the students to the Great Hall for lunch. Anne had skipped lunch, per her usual habits, she hated lunch, so she needed to have something to eat soon. It was a feeble hope, to believe Ann would make her way to the Hall as the rest of the school would. Yet, Anne stood by the entrance as students scrambled inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of those golden locks and piercing blue gaze in the crowd, searching for that one person she was interested in speaking to, as she had done these last couple of weeks. As she had expected, Ann Walker didn’t show up for dinner, but it didn’t stop Anne from being gravely disappointed. She was the last person to find her seat in the Great Hall. She wasn’t even hungry anymore.

The rest of the evening was spent in the Slytherin Common room. Anne was tired. She had dragged her favourite chintz-chair to a corner and sat with her homework. It was an essay for Potions class; _How would you react if someone had been poisoned with an unknown substance?_ It was quite easy, really. She knew perfectly well that the professor asked how to prepare an antidote, and how to detect which compounds the poison contained. She described it quite detailed, yet added a side note, stating that in an emergency, she would simply hope a bezoar would do the trick.

Anne finished the essay quite early, just a little past 8 p.m, so she decided practising non-verbal spells by trying to turn her quill into a needle. Transfiguration wasn’t her best subject, she preferred Potions, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, yet she wasn’t bad at it. She simply considered the Transfiguration professor, Professor Greengrass, to be a bit daft. When managing an okay-looking needle, she took care of her Herbology homework to, as the didn’t like the idea of falling behind.

When she looked up from her finished homework it was close to midnight and the Common room was empty. She hadn’t noticed the significant drop of disturbing noises, since she had become quite adept at noise-cancelling charms. She stretched her back and neck before heading up to her dormitory, which she shared with her friend Mary (who wasn’t presently there) and a girl by the name Eliza Zabini, who generally didn’t speak much. She was one of those brooding back-ground figures which Anne didn’t pay much attention too. Currently, she was reading an old book by the light of her wand. Anne changed into her nightgown, sat by the dormitory’s shared desk and wrote a passage in her diary, all in code, of course. Normally, it made her focus and see the daily events in new light, but tonight, all she could see was the enormous failure on her part, scolding her from the white pages of her book.

How could the day have started so well, and end in such a monstrous catastrophe? Where did it go wrong? But there was no point in arguing where and why it took a wrong turn, she couldn’t change it, she didn’t have a time-turner (which Anne regarded as cheating anyway). She turned page after page, reading all the old passages when she described her time spent with Ann. And then it hit her; the Prefect’s bathroom! It was unfortunately passed one o’clock, closer to half past, already, but maybe, just maybe.

Anne draped her cloak around her while considering Zabini, would she care or even notice if Anne sneaked out? She didn’t seem to give a damn that Mary wasn’t here, and they were a lot closer. On the second thought, Anne didn’t give a damn if Eliza Zabini did. She grabbed her wand and marched right out of the dormitory, down into the Common room and out through secret passageway. As a precaution she cast a Disillusionment-Charm over herself and walked close to the walls as she made her way toward the staircases.

With her guard up and her heart in her throat, she moved as fast as she could. She prayed the staircases wouldn’t change position, but of course they did, yet she made it to the 5th floor relatively easy. She was walking past a statue when she heard footsteps and around the corner came Professor Greengrass, the daft teacher who always thought himself to be the cleverest in the room. She quickly turned off her lit wand, pushed herself against the walls and closed her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest as she listened to his footsteps drawing nearer and nearer. He walked slowly, did he already know she was there and just wanted to agonise her? It was indeed torture, it was difficult hearing him walking on the account of her heartbeats pounding, her palms were sweaty, and insects were crawling all over her body. A growing part of her just wanted it over with, no matter the outcome.

The Transfiguration teacher stopped a few metres away from her, and Anne was sure, she was just waiting for it, for him to simply demand that she surrendered. She dared to open one of her eyes slightly, just looking at what the hell his business was. The idiot had stopped to look at his watch. His watch. Oh Lord, her own watch was, as usual, stuffed in her pocket, the watch with quacked at every even number clock-strike. It was, in an unknown number of minutes left until two o’clock. If he was here when it went off, she game was lost. She had already been caught breaking curfew in the past, and had, by sheer luck, been able to talk herself out of a visit to the dungeons for it. Anne knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid it this time.

And just as she was about to throw up of the agonising anxiety, border-line fear, the Professor walked away. He had moved past her without a second glance at the wall she was standing against. She drew a relieved breath when he turned around the corridor, and an instant flow of euphory erupted inside Anne’s chest, and she remembered why she loved to gamble. The oh so sweet victory made it worth it, every time. And today she had almost folded, falling for his bluff. She scoffed and continued forward. She was finally nearing the portrait of Boris the Bewildered. One metre away she muttered the password and it swung open, she hurried inside, just in came the Professor decided to come back. She turned with her back against the bathroom to close the portrait-door as quietly as she could. Truth be told, she was reluctant to turn around. Right now, before reality dawned on her, Ann was both here and not here at the same time. Soon one of those options would be the only correct one.

She just wanted it over with. Anne turned around and saw an empty bathroom. On her way here her heart had been pounding in her throat, now it had sunk down to her stomach, barely beating. There wasn’t a single clue in her, to whether her friend had been here. The scorch-mark on the wall, from the very first time they met, had been removed. She sighed and sunk down on the floor and leaned her head against the cold wall. This whole excursion had been in vain, pointless, and now she’d have to find her way back again.

Looking at the ceiling it struck her; the Room of Requirement was just two floors up. Much closer than the Common room. Unless, of course, Marianna is occupying it. She suddenly felt exhausted. From her pocket came two little quacks, it felt reassuring in a peculiar way. Anne reached into her pocket to retrieve the silver watch. It was, in Anne’s humble opinion, a very handsome watch. It was rather simple in design, except for a few carvings into the lock, she used to trail her finger by them, the image was of the solar system. She sighed again, maybe the safest bet was to return to her dormitory.

The following Sunday was as uneventful, in the Ann Walker department, as the Saturday had been. Anne decided that it was time to turn to her Gryffindor-friend Isabella (or Tib) Norcliffe. She had listened patiently, with a contemplative expression, while Anne told her about the misfortune regarding Marianna’s interruption. They were sitting out in the sunny courtyard, “enjoying” a game of gobstones.

“So, she just disappeared before I could say anything. Mary brought out the heavy arsenal of insults, and she ran from there.”

“Yes, your friend Belcombe isn’t really known for being gentle in such situations. I am more surprised that she didn’t curse this Ann of yours, actually. Get her out of the picture for good.” As Tib finished her sentence she made an excellent move in the game, the result being Anne squirted in the face. She whipped it off with her handkerchief.

“Well I don’t know what to do, Tib. I can’t just break into their Common room, it has defence-mechanisms. I learnt that the hard way.”

“You hadn’t heard about the vinegar-trap before?” Tib inquired, visibly amused.

“No, I hadn’t...” Tib made another move and Anne got squirted yet again.

“Oh, come on Lister, get your mind into the game, will you? It’s not funny to clobber you completely. I need the spirit of the game!”

“Well, Tib, my mind is freaking occupied with other, more important things.”

Tib sighed and bit her lip mindlessly, a sure sign that she was deep in thought.

“You know, Anne. I think it would be easiest if you just broke in. Have you tried stealing a Hufflepuff-robe from the laundry? That might fool it?” She sounded doubtful.

“So, that is what you’d done?”

“Probably, if it was about someone I fancied.” She smirked pointedly at Anne, “Or you could just wait and watch. She ought to come out eventually, she can’t miss classes unnoticed. You know what the new punishment is for that right? I got to be honest, I didn’t like Professor Black as a teacher, but headmaster? It’s mad.”

“You’re not really making me feel better Tib, I don’t want to find her in a dungeon. I don’t want to ambush her!”

“And you freaking think breaking in wouldn’t be ambushing?”

“Breaking in was your damn idea! As was playing this stupid game.”

“If it is so stupid, how come you looked cheered up? Maybe that was my plan all along. And oops, here we go again! Anne Lister, squirted in the face again!”

“You’re so dumb, Tib. Do you know that?” Anne said fondly. They continued the game without saying much more. Anne focused all she could, seeking revenge for the four times she got hit in face with stinking liquid. Now, she wanted to win.

“Hey, Lister! You know what I’ve heard? The first quidditch game of the season is Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Are you excited playing beater against me, after I had all summer to practise? We will crush you.”

“Norcliffe, even if your aim is twice as good as it was last year, I _still_ wouldn’t have much to worry about.” She said in a very smug voice, and then managed to out-move Tib in gobstones too. Her friend burst out laughing, so loudly it disturbed a flock of orange birds by the fountain.

“No, but seriously Anne, I don’t know how to help you with this Walker-thing.”

“Everyone thinks she’s insane, Tib.”

“Yes, I’ve heard. Probably rumours which get spread around by the likes of Belcombe or Priestly.”

“So, what do you think I should do?”

“Anne, you have a strange habit of trying to ‘play the field’ and then falling madly in love. This girl probably isn’t an invalid, but you can’t deny she seem to have some issues. The question is, can you handle it?”

Anne pondered this for a minute, but she had already decided a long time ago.

“Yes.”

“Then go find her! Sitting here and wasting time, are you mad?”


	5. Chapter 5

Ann didn’t shown up for her classes the following Monday. She wasn’t in the hospital-wing either. Marian let pass to Anne, what she had heard, the teachers growing more impatient with Ann Walkers erratic behaviour. They wouldn’t put up with it for much longer. The time was running out, Anne had to find her friend soon. At lunch, she decided to go with Tib’s crazy, half-hearted idea. She would nick a Hufflepuff-robe from the laundry and just go for it. But it wouldn’t be enough, she needed a diversion.

Anne was able to require a half-impressive stack of Filibuster’s fireworks. It was after all, a last-minute thing, AND they were not permitted at school. However, she didn’t want to be stuck in the crossfire of fireworks, students and teachers, it was paramount that _someone else_ set them off. Mary wouldn’t even dream of it, and Tib was already on thin ice. She didn’t actually trust her other friends, she classmates to do it properly. She needed total and utter chaos. The answer to this predicament was currently sitting inside an amour in a 4th floor corridor, screaming obscenities after passing people.

Indeed, a boxset of Filibuster’s in the hands of Peeves the Poltergeist was almost a fail-proof plan, if it weren’t for the slight problem with getting him to time the explosions with her own plan. Anne on the other hand, did have some experience with manipulation.

When the school-bells rang for lunch, she headed for the laundry and stole the first set of robes that seemed to fit her somewhat, jammed it into her schoolbag and headed upstairs. Peeves was still there in the armour. When he spotted Anne walking down the deserted corridor, he flew out of the armour and straight for Anne, stopping a mere metre away from her, hoping it would intimidate her. It didn’t. She simply smiled as he started to sing a mocking verse about her.

“You know what, Peeves? I really admire you, just ignoring the social rules of common decency and simply living your best life. Wouldn’t we all prosper, if we had been as brave as you. I sure will miss your admirable fight.”

This threw him off completely, eyeing her suspiciously, he struggled to understand just what she was saying. In the meanwhile, Anne gave an audible sigh and stared pointedly out the window, where a little bird sat perched on the windowpane. Finally, the Poltergeist managed to comprehend Anne’s minor speech.

“What do you mean, Lister-shitter?”

“Simply that your presence will be missed, when they remove you.”

He looked confused yet again.

“Oh, you haven’t heard? Oh, dear me, I’m truly sorry, I hate to be the messenger to get shot, but if it falls on me… The caretaker, Rancorous Carpe, has convinced the Headmaster to throw you out. They have a plan already.”

Peeves the Poltergeist grew double his size in anger, shouting that he would put an end to that. This is where Anne’s plan came in.

“Well, Peeves, I have a box of Filibuster’s… if you’d like? I mean, I would gladly use it to fight injustice.”

It worked, the Poltergeist was furious, to angry to see through the holes in Anne’s story. She opened her bag and gave the fireworks to Peeves, who gave a squeal of malicious delight and soared away. Taking advantage of the solitude, she quickly changed into the stolen set of robed and scurried downstairs. She’d reached he second floor when she started hearing the loud bangs of top-class fireworks. The students, sick and tired of the strict code of conduct newly instituted by Headmaster Black and caretaker Carpe, cheered Peeves on as he created mayhem. Since the offices targeted by the manipulated Peeves, the Headmaster’s and the caretaker’s, were far away from the Hufflepuff common room, Anne didn’t fear being caught. She didn’t bother with a Disillusionment-Charm this time, but simply bolted towards the heap of barrels in a sided-corridor by the kitchen.

The students passing her on the way didn’t bat an eye at her direction; who would bother to get a Prefect involved? They frankly didn’t notice the notorious Slytherin Prefect and quidditch beater sporting the black and yellow badger. Anne was delighted that the first part of Tib’s crazy plan worked smoothly, and she reached the barrels with a smug grin.

She reached into her bag and brought up an umbrella; she wasn’t planning on shower in vinegar once more. She held it over herself as she tried to remember the melody of the song. She thought she did. But was it the same barrel all the knocks were to be given? At this moment of dire need, Anne wished she had befriended a Hufflepuff earlier, so this stupid predicament wouldn’t be an issue. But we aren’t alive if we don’t take an odd risk once in a while, are we? She swallowed and took a deep breath and did as her instinct told her to do.

It was dead quiet when she finished, after a second or two, when that ominous creaking didn’t erupt, Anne began to believe it had worked. The third second, she realised just how wrong she was. The vinegar didn’t just erupt from overhead, but from the sides to, as if she was being targeted by three wild garden-hoses at once. As an active volcano or a steep waterfall, it roared as it hit her from every angle. Anne had a hard time keeping her balance. Not only did the door know she wasn’t a Hufflepuff, but it seemed to remember her last try at breaking in, AND that she was trying to protect herself with an umbrella.

The vinegar poured over her for almost 20, long, excruciating seconds. Finally, it stopped, and it was silence again. Anne moved away from the hidden entry, she threw the umbrella angerly away from her, but was utterly relieved that no one was here to laugh at her. It was too embarrassing to even think about. Standing a few metres away, turned towards the corridor, in case someone would show up, Anne tried to shake of most of the vinegar. It was everywhere, she knew it had soaked through all her layers of clothing.

“Anne?”

She whisked around, hearing a voice from behind. In the doorway stood the very person she’d been searching for. Anne was so relieved to see her, she momentarily forgot about the awkward situation Ann had found her in. Quickly afterwards, she noticed the pale look of Ann’s face, with dark circles around her eyes, the defeated look in her eyes. Anne’s courage betrayed her.

“Anne, what are you doing here? I heard bangs.” she sounded tired, close to apathic.

“I’ve been looking after you everywhere, I needed to talk to you. This was my last resort.”

“Was it you who made all the noise? Maybe it’s just best for you if you just forget about me. I’m not a good person or friend; you’d just get fed up with me.”

“Ann, Marianna’s words don’t reflect my sentiment. At all. Please.”

Ann doubted, looking back into her common room, biting her lip, unsure what to do. She looked back at the soaking Anne, the person who was the very embodiment of confidence and strength, looking imploringly and beggingly at her, drenched in vinegar from top to toe. Ann felt sympathy rising in her chest as she looked at this slightly pathetic scene. With a faint smile, she said,

“Come in, Anne, I have dry clothes you can change into.” And she pushed opened the door wide open.

Anne looked at it with a highly suspicious look, before moving towards her friend carefully, ready to jump back any second. Ann rolled her eyes, while smiling more broadly, she had indeed befriended a peculiar friend. She backed away as Anne took a great leap and jumped inside.

She gazed around the well-lit, round room, filled with paintings and plants, yellow sofas and couches, petit coffee-tables in mahogany. It didn’t have that faint smell of the lake, but instead a sweat undertone. the ceiling was quite low and with the round windows high up, she got the distinct feeling of a cosy basement. Indeed, the windows showed the grass of the Hogwarts’ grounds rippling in the wind. Anne could see that this was a perfect home for little Ann, and why she had been so out of place at the Slytherins’.

“Over here, Ann, this door leads to my dormitory.” Ann said, as she walked towards a round, wooden door to her immediate right. Anne followed, still looking around, astounded. This was better reading-conditions, a feat her own common room always lacked.

Ann shared room with four other girls. Maybe it was on optical illusion, but it looked as if Ann’s bed was pushed away to the corner, a little away from the others. Hers was the only unmade bed. Anne stood still in the centre of the room, while her friend searched in her drawers after spare-clothes. She found a light-blue skirt and a grey, knitted shirt and handed them over to Anne. They looked at each other for a while, Anne with a slightly raised eyebrow, smirking. Her friend blushed scarlet red and hurried out of the room. She smiled to herself while getting dressed, maybe all wasn’t lost between her and little Ann, who definitely hadn’t looked at Anne’s eyes while staring.

Ann was sitting with her legs crossed on an armchair when Anne returned. She was feeding an orange, little bird with seeds from her cupped hands. The sight would make a great painting, Anne thought briefly, before joining her friend, sitting down in the armchair next to hers. It was a little too poofy in her taste.

Anne Lister wasn’t known for dancing around difficult subjects, she liked dealing with a problem headfast. This time was not an exception either.

“Ann. What Mary, Marianna, said the other day was uncalled for, and I didn’t stand for it.”

Her friend continued to feed the bird, ignoring the conversation, but Anne knew she was listening to every word she said; tears had begun to trickle down Ann’s cheeks. So, Anne pressed on,

“I’m not _pretending_ to be your friend, I never was. I would never.”

Ann was crying and shaking her head.

“You don’t believe me?”

Ann looked her straight into her eyes, Anne’s gut wrenched at the sight of those beautiful eyes to filled with hurt and sorrow. How did all of that get in there?

“Anne, I know you know wh-what they s-say about me. What they whisper. **_Invalid_**. It was just so ni-nice havi-ving a friend who didn’t know. A-and kn-now you do-o.”

“I’m sorry, but if it is any comfort, they probably say a lot of nasty things behind my back as well.”

“N-not people. My f-family.” Ann was sitting completely still, as if she fell into herself and got lost. She barely blinked for minutes. Anne, on the other hand, wasn’t quite sure of what to say. The bird flew up to Ann’s shoulder, where it started to pick at her hair, remaining unnoticed by Ann. Her hands relaxed, so the bird seed scattered across her legs, the chair and the floor. Tenderly, Anne reached over and grabbed her hands and held them in her own. They were cold, she tried to warm them.

“My parents had… _issues_ with me. When I grew up. To this day, actually.” She tried to catch Ann’s gaze, but she stared resolutely at an unfocused point ahead of her. Anne decided to continue her story.

“They didn’t like, in particular my mother, certain ‘ _lifestyle-choices’_ I made. My father didn’t seem to care much, but he didn’t take my side either. She pesters me every summer about my ‘ _girl-friends’_ , which is why I try to spend more time with my aunt and uncle, in Halifax, but it was just these last years where I have a say in things. As I’m not a little girl anymore and have a worse temperament.”

Ann looked over, meeting at last, her own brown eyes. She tried to smile compassionately, something she wasn’t used to do. It seemed to work, Ann tried to smile too, her lips had finally stopped shaking. Yet, she still had tears in her eyes.

“Look, Ann. I really want to be your friend, and I simply don’t care what other people say about you, because I know it’s not true…”

“But it is.” Ann interrupted.

“… but even if it was true, which I highly doubt, I would still want to be your friend. You’re good to me, and I am good to you. We can be good friends, I know it.”

Ann smiled with more convincingly now, she leaned her head on Anne’s shoulder, she whispered,

“They are correct, what they say about me. You don’t know what you’re signing up for.”

“People’s versions of who you are can be so believing, they melt into your own self-image, but that doesn’t make them true. Besides, there is no friend more demanding than Marianna Belcombe.”

Ann gave a little scoff but nuzzled her face more closely to Anne’s neck, Anne could feel her friend’s breathing against her skin, and it tickled, mostly in her stomach. It felt good, it lifted Anne’s spirits.

“How about a walk in the sunlight, hmm? That always cheers me up.”

“You walk too fast, Anne, I can never keep up.”

“If I promise to walk slowly?”

“You said that the other times too!”

“Yes, but this time I really mean it.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“So that is a yes? You’ll go for a walk with me?”

“Yes. You make it sound much grander than it is.”

“Ann, it the best thing to happen today.”


	6. Chapter 6

They left Hufflepuff’s common room and the castle’s silence met them, it suddenly struck Anne that everyone was in their respective classes. She was supposed to be in the classroom of Ancient Runes. It was a strange realisation, but she hadn’t skipped a class at all, during her all five completed years at Hogwarts. It stung a little, her track record wasn’t perfect anymore. It filled her with an unmotivated amount of anxiety, which she supressed. Anne had to keep her cool, the very least for Ann’s sake.

The teachers had seemingly managed to control Peeves and his illegal fireworks. The only sound they could her as they walked up to the Entrance hall was the steady echoing of their own footsteps. But as they reached the hall itself, they could sense a faint scent of gunpowder. They didn’t dare talking yet, since they weren’t allowed outside of class, they were bound by a sense to keep quiet, similar to the one in the Library.

There was a loud bang from a corridor overhead. Ann instantly grip Anne’s wrist, a second later they heard the loud and unmistakably cackle of the poltergeist. They could see the fat grin of Peeves as he emerged on top of the flight of stairs, making fart-sounds as he antagonised the caretaker. Carpe sent a red spell after the poltergeist, who managed to dodge it, and laughed even louder when the curse hit a painting. He swished away, forcing caretaker Carpe to run after, still sending angry jinxes after Peeves.

The two class-runaway Prefects followed this spectacle as it looked quite humorous. But when they heard the clear voice of Headmaster Black, Anne mumbled out of the corner of her mouth,

“Maybe we should head out…”

Ann nodded feverishly, still clutching Anne’s arm tightly. They turned quickly on the spot and headed straight for the doors.

The sun blinded them as they took a deep breath of late-summer scented air. A feeling of freedom and delight came over them immediately. Anne glanced discretely over to Ann, who stood sun-bathing with her eyes closed, a smile on her lips. She looked divine, her blond locks reflecting the sunshine, creating the illusion of a halo around her head. Ann looked pale, still, but not sickly. A bird was singing in a loud and shrill, but pleasant manner from a tree nearby.

“Are you staring at me, miss Lister?” she said, amused.

“No, of course not! What makes you think that?”

Her friend simply shrugged, continuing to smile, saying,

“I just had a feeling. “

She opened her eyes to look at Anne, squinting as she had become unaccustomed to the sunlight again,

“Weren’t we going somewhere?” there was a playful twinkle in those blue eyes.

“Right you are! Follow me.”

They walked sown the stone steps and towards the lake. Anne noticed how closely by Ann was walking, their hands were brushing each other. Peeves’ loud sudden appearance had made little Ann grasp her hand; she had let go of it when they stepped outside. In Anne’s hand there was something close to phantom-pain; something was quite clearly missing. For the rest of the walk, she made her hand brush Ann Walker’s more deliberately.

Walking on the soft grass, and quite slowly, Anne’s spirit increased. She was on the verge, however, at forcing Ann to walk faster. Her pace was frustratingly slow, so slow in fact, Anne almost fell over. The impatient restlessness which had been with Anne her entire life threatened to erupt. For her the goal with walking was the exercise, the walk itself, and the goal. Ann rather wanted to walk a slower pace and stop to look at thing on the way.

At length they reached the same pine-tree where Anne had forced Marian to tell her all the rumours surrounding Ann. Here they stopped, Anne somewhat reluctantly. Ann looked up the crown of the trees, over the blue lake and back towards the black castle over the green meadow, her Prefect-badge glinting by the few sunrays which found their way through the treetops. An orange chaffinch bird landed on Ann’s shoulder, something she didn’t seem to find unusual, by the looks of it. She took no notice of it. She looked strangely like a forest-nymph, dressed peculiarly in black Hogwarts robes.

“We like this place. I also come here sometimes, to sketch.” She sat down on the brown earth, on top of a tree-root. She sighed contently. Anne concluded that the walk had come to its end and sat down too. The smell of warm forest and dry earth overwhelmed her.

“Who are ‘we’, Ann? You and I haven’t been here together before.”

Ann looked at Anne, a tricky smile on her face, but twinkling eyes. Anne was curious, but frankly a bit put off. It’s quite a worrying trait in a person, when they refer to themselves, out loud, as “we”. Ann held out her hand and the little bird jumped down into her palm.

“This is Holden.” She indicated the bird, smiling more broadly at the sight of utter confusion that was Anne Lister.

“He is my familiaris, I figured out it was called. We are linked, I don’t know how exactly, or why. But I can sometimes see what he sees and sense what he senses. I can have the most baffling sensations that I’m flying, before realising it’s actually Holden.” 

Something stirred in Anne’s memories upon hearing this. There had been an orange bird on a branch when she spoked to Marian, and a flock of them when she played Gobstones with Tib. Ann had fed an orange bird earlier, in the Hufflepuff common room. She had been searching for Ann, and this whole time had been tracked by her. A blush rose from Anne’s throat all the way up to her cheeks. She was angry, and was about to express this anger, but Ann was faster.

“I can’t control him at all, he goes where he wants. But I think he knew I was always thinking about you, I suppose that our connection goes both ways, so he let me know you were alright. I promise, I didn’t spy on you, I tried to tell him.”

She bird gave a shrill squeal and took off for the tree-crown, as if offended by the sheer audacity of the ungratefulness. Up on the fourth highest branch, he started singing. The both of them stared after him, its soothed Anne’s anger, hearing the song.

“Did you hear what I was saying? Through the bird?” she avoided her friend’s gaze, who looked straight at her.

“No, he is too impatient to listen to human communication. I heard maybe one or two words, but that’s all.”

“Such as?”

Ann got a contemplative frown when while thinking back, while also biting her lip. If Anne hadn’t still felt some anger at being potentially spied on, she would have thought it very cute, how focused her friend’s face became.

“Well firstly, I saw you and Marian under a tree, and something in the line of being ‘family with a Slytherin-troll’… or maybe it was an ogre? And when you were with your Gryffindor-friend, all I saw was you being squirted in the face by the gobstone and her laughing at you. That is all, I promise.”

Anne gave up relieved laugh; she wanted Ann to think that she didn’t know much about her secrets. That she could decide when and how much Anne was allowed to know. She had felt it being an intrusion on her friend’s privacy when discussing these matters with her sister and friend. Ann’s smile came back as she seemed to have interpreted Anne’s laugh that she wasn’t angry anymore. The pressed ambience disappeared, replaced by the usual joy they felt in each other’s company.

Anne didn’t ask why Little Ann hadn’t told her about this, for she already knew the reason, even if Anne couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt. Ann probably regarded the moments with the bird to be her little safe places. Someplace where she didn’t have to be herself or feel her sadness and anxiety, a place no one knew about. It probably gave her a relieved feeling in her everyday life, knowing she could just escape into the consciousness of Holden. Even if she now felt comfortable sharing this secret with Anne, she might not want to discuss it further, yet the topic of familiaris intrigued Anne too much for her to let pass.

“For how long have the two of you had this connection?”

“Hmm? Oh, since I my first day here at Hogwarts. He was waiting for me, when I first walked into my dormitory he was there, on the windowsill. Before I knew it, I saw myself through his eyes. I thought I was going mad; I had barely come back to my senses when her flew off.”

“And then it just continued to happen? Those visions?”

“Yes, but they have become longer and more detailed. I can also control them better, sometimes even deliberately fall into his mind.”

“It’s absolutely fascinating.”

Ann positively beamed at the notion of being regarded as ‘fascinating’. But she was too shy and humble to try to press the subject on, too scared to fish for more compliments.

They sat there in silence for a while, enjoying the presence of each other. Ann was happy, to finally have someone it was okay to be quiet with, not being pressured into keeping small talk. Anne, on the other hand, was happy over conversating with someone who thought everything Anne said was interesting. And it didn’t hurt, that this someone was just as interesting as her choices of topics, or that she looked stunning.

“Is there a reason behind naming him Holden?”

Ann gave a small chuckle, as she answered,

“There always have to be a reason for you Anne, doesn’t it?” She didn’t seem annoyed or angry at all but pleased with herself for unlocking this trait of Anne’s. Ann looked at her friend tenderly, as if looking at a very cute kitten, struggling up a flight of stairs.

“Yes Anne, there’s a reason, it being that I simply thought it would be a cute, and odd, name for a bird.”

They locked eyes, more intensely than previously this day, to level of Slytherin Common room. There was a kiss just waiting to happen, Anne could just lean forward and take it. But she hesitated. She had decided to move slowly forward with Ann yet risked it all that day in her Common room. The catastrophe followed had almost been fatal to the entire relationship. Was it worth the risk again, right this instance? They were surrounded by a beautiful scenery; the place was perfect for a first kiss.

The school-bells rang; they didn’t have to hide anymore. The moment passed, both of them half-disappointed, half-relieved.

They made their way back to the castle, walking side by side, of course, but not as near one another as they had when walking down the lawn earlier, but the light-hearted spirit sill present. All in all, it had been a good day so far.

When they had reached quite far up the huge lawn, they noticed far more and more pupils, who had rushed for the grounds the second the last class was dismissed. Anne suddenly stopped, confusing little Ann, because she had met Marianna’s eyes, who were sneaking off towards the forest with _Charles_ Lawton. The two old friends looked at each other, measuring one another. Anne straightened her back and made a stubborn expression, her friend Mary scoffed visibly and hurried faster off with her companion. Ann couldn’t help spotting her friend’s sour look and was instantly unsure of things again.

“Anne. Are… are you still f-friends with her?”

Anne immediately directed her gaze towards Ann, her expression softened. She pondered the question a few seconds, before,

“You know what, Ann? I haven’t got a clue with Mary. Everything with her is complicated and I prefer simple.”

“Yes, but Anne, you’re not just… friends… with me, to make her jealous?”

“What? No, Ann!” Anne wore a shocked expression, and a worried one as she noticed the potential hurt on her little friend’s face, and she grabbed Ann’s chin carefully with her right hand, carefully forcing Ann to meet her gaze.

“I am not using you; I am very much fond of you. I think it’s Mary trying to make me jealous, being with Charles, honestly. Not that it matters much now, when I have you as my friend.”

A sense of relief flushed over Anne as her friend broke into smiling again, clearly comforted. Hadn’t there been so many pupils around, she would have kissed little Ann’s adorable face. Instead she smiled broadly, still looking deeply into Ann’s blue eyes, holding her hand on her cheek. In the distance she heard someone call her name, which she didn’t take notice of before the person in question stood right beside them. Anne lowered her hand and reluctantly let Ann’s gaze go, turning her head to the left to spot her quidditch captain, Pashira Lestrange.

“Hey, Lister, had a good summer?”

“Yes, it was decent. Yours?”

“It was fine enough, really. Either way, the try-outs is this Saturday. I’m guessing you’ll be going to try out for Beater this year too? I’d really like you on the team again.”

“If you like me on the team, why bother with a try-out, Lestrange?”

“Because if there is someone who can out-shine you, I’d like to meet them. Either way, Saturday 2 p.m. on the quidditch field.” She shot a quick, vicious glance at Ann Walker. “Please, don’t disappoint me.”

She walked away, not noticing the sceptic glance Anne shot after her. Ann, on the other hand, looked quizzical.

“Did you notice, Ann, her feeble attempt to be polite before striking me with her arrogant buffoonery?”

Ann laughed and they stared walking up the lawn again.

“I did notice, Ann. Who was she even?”

“Technically, I would deem her a ‘nobody’, but formally she is known as my quidditch-captain. Pashira Lestrange.”

“She seemed like a delight.”

“Indeed, she is, especially Sunday at 7 a.m. during a practise in the rain.”

“She appears to think you’ll skip the try-outs?”

“Well, I did that last year too, since frankly, I really thought I would make it to the team regardless. She was quite angry but put me in the team either way. She usually picks fights she has decided to lose beforehand.”

“So, you’ll go this year?”

“I suppose so.”

“Can I come? To watch?”

Anne shot her friend a curious glance, but little Ann from Halifax had covered herself with an innocent expression, yet there was a hint of blush on her cheeks. In her stomach, Anne felt the butterflies yet again, but she too decided to play innocent.

“Of course, you can. You may, also.” Ann gave her a push with her elbow, Anne laughed. It was indeed a good day today.

They had reached a stone bench by a willow tree and sat down.

“Anne?” 

“Yes?”

“You don’t suppose you could teach me the Disillusionment-Charm?”

“Of course, I can, Ann. But then I’d like to know that healing charm you used on your ankle, if that’s okay.”

“That’s a fair trade. Can you teach me tomorrow?”

“Ehm, yes? Why not now?”

“You see, I have this strangest feeling that Professor Greengrass is heading our way to scold the both of us.”

A few second later the idiot-Professor had shown up as an orange bird fluttered past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for potential spelling-mistakes


	7. Chapter 7

Anne was sitting by her Head of House, Professor Fawley. She was waiting for him to finish some paperwork, no doubt deliberately keeping her waiting on purpose, as a lame form of power-play. This intimidation usually didn’t affect Anne the slightest, it was rarely she felt not in control of the situation. There was, however, a slight complication this time around; Ann Walker. She would definitely crack, sitting face to face with the Hufflepuff Head of House. It was worrying, and all she could listen to was the grandfather-clock tick away in the corner of the office.

“So, miss Lister, please do explain why you were skipping two lessons this afternoon, one of them being my own?” He had apparently decided that she was finally worthy of his time.

Professor Fawley was sitting leaned in his chair, leaning forward with his elbows resting on the desk. He looked slightly unbothered, yet disciplinary, clearly tired of her antics. Anne met his eyes, trying to look as confident as possible without being seen as arrogant. She had to give him the picture that she was indeed remorseful but not too much that it was obviously a lie.

“Well, Professor, you see…”

“Did miss Walker talk you into this?” he interrupted suddenly.

“Miss Walker? No, not at all. Sir.” If anyone was the bad influence it was Anne Lister, surely?

“No, I guess she isn’t known for making others skip lessons, but this is more in tune with her behaviour, rather than yours. It’s very uncharacteristically for you, miss Lister. You usually misbehave after school-hours.”

“Professor…”

Fawley interrupted again.

“Before you give me your half-hearted explanation, miss Lister, I’d like to make absolutely sure you realise that I am in no mood for nonsense. I only want to hear a valid excuse, or none at all.”

“Yes, sir, well miss Walker was feeling ill and I thought that she needed my assistance. I am her friend and she rarely confine in anyone else.” She knew it before she started talking; this explanation would fall flat; he wouldn’t accept it.

“Are you, Lister, the Matron of the hospital wing?”

“No, Professor.” The watch in her pocket gave a loud quack. It was apparently 4 o’clock. He looked suspiciously towards her robes.

“Are you in other ways an expert in healing-charms?”

“No, sir.”

“Was it then prudent that you skipped lessons, to ‘assist’ miss Walker?”

“No, I suppose not, Professor. But I still reckon it was.”

He gave a loud sigh and tried to stare her down. It didn’t work, Anne’s burning stubbornness would carry her all the way, she wouldn’t beck down. As the Professor didn’t say anything, she continued,

“Professor, as a Prefect, it is my duty to help other students who might need support.”

“Miss Lister, she isn’t in our House. If she indeed needed ‘assist’ then she ought to have gone first and foremost to another Hufflepuff Prefect. Ah, don’t, Lister, I am talking now. You said she rarely confide in others, yet there would be plenty of time outside school-hours for conversation. And the fact remains, she isn’t ill. She was admitted this Sunday to the hospital wing, but there was nothing wrong with her.”

“Professor, sir…”

“I don’t want to hear it. I want you to apologise for missing my lesson, then I’ll disregard the distinct smell of vinegar emitting from you, which is highly suspicious when talking about your _Hufflepuff_ friend. I want you to assure me that it won’t happen again, otherwise I have to reconsider the burden of being Prefect in your case, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Professor. I apologise for skipping your lesson, and it won’t happen again, sir.”

“Very well then, you are dismissed, come to my office on Sunday afternoon, at 3, for a detention with me, don’t tell anyone. I also want to see your Arithmancy-essay for this week by tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.” Fuming, she turned on the spot and made to march out if his wretched office, which smelled like mildew. The audacity was astounding; take away her badge for skipping two (2) lessons to help a friend?

“Oh, and miss Lister?”

“Yes, Professor?” she turned around, reluctantly, to face him yet again. She expected him to berate her more, but there was a look of genuine concern on his wrinkled face.

“You do good, remembering our new Headmaster’s recently made rules concerning our reoffenders. I don’t want to send an overall brilliant student to the dungeon to hang from their wrists, so please, don’t put yourself in that situation. And keep your House-mates in line for the same reason.”

“Of course, Professor. I’ll do my best.”

“Very well then, Prefect Lister, have a continued good day. But mark my word, stay away from the Hufflepuff Common room.”

She nodded at him before walking resolutely out of his office. Anne closed his door carefully and made her way towards the Great Hall, wondering what hell they would put her Ann through. With the Professor’s last warning ringing in her head, she realised, she didn’t give a flying fuck about some of the idiots in Slytherin, as long as she could keep that one special Hufflepuff out of trouble.

Ann Walker was standing in the Entrance Hall when Anne came down the stairs. She was nervously fiddling with a ring, clearly waiting for Anne to show up, because she looked relieved to see her. Quite quickly, she approached Anne with an anxious expression.

“I’m so sorry, Anne, for putting you in trouble. I should’ve known better…”

“It’s fine, Ann, it really is. Nothing too bad happened to me.”

“Oh, okay. Well that’s splendid.”

Ann fell silent, looking pale still. She even avoided Anne’s glance, staring resolutely on her ring. After a few seconds she mumbled something about “needing air”, and bolted towards the entrance, with Anne closely behind.

Now, in the late afternoon, it was obvious that the autumn was quickly approaching. Where the day and been warm, the closer to dusk it was, the cooler the air become. It was almost unpleasant without a thicker robe now, despite only being the early October. Well outside, Ann picked up her speed and simply ran towards the bench that had been sitting on earlier, under the willow. Anne pursued, but the little Hufflepuff friend was faster. She reached the bench much before Anne did, from a little away, she could see her friend bending over a shrubbery and threw up.

When Anne finally caught up, Ann was finished. She stood up shakily again and sat down heavily on the bench. Her familiaris, Holden, came flying out of nowhere and perched himself on top of her shoulder.

“Ann… What’s… the… matter?” She was still panting, she was a fast walker and flyer, not runner.

Her friend just shook her head, trembling from head to toe, holding her arms tightly around herself, rocking slowly forward and backward. If she wasn’t worried before, Anne sure was now. She sat down next to the Hufflepuff, reached out and placed her arm over Ann’s shoulders, to the annoyance of Holden. Gently pulling Ann toward her, she leaned her head against the blonde locks of her friend’s. It was clear that Ann Walker was silently crying.

“Ann, please… tell me, I might be able to fix it.”

She simply received another headshake as an answer, Ann was resolutely not using her words. Anne rubbed her back tenderly, feeling hunger rumbling in her stomach.

“Ann…” She whispered in her ear and offered her friend a blue handkerchief.

Ann took the handkerchief and dried her eyes in it, still trembling. After that, she finally dared to meet Anne’s worried eyes. It stung, seeing Ann so miserable.

“Anne, they gave me detention. In the dungeons…”

“What?! Professor Prewett sent you there, when Fawley didn’t out of empathy? That seem upside-down.”

“It wasn’t Prewett… when I- I came to h-his office, Profess-or Black was there too. He ha-had he-heard of my recurring ‘misdeeds’.”

Anne’s heart sank into her stomach like a heavy stone. This was bad. Really freaking bad.

“And Prewett tried nothing?”

“He tried to tell Black, but…” She gesticulated distraughtly, already given up. Anne Lister was livid on Ann’s behalf. Resolutely, she hugged Ann more tightly, holding her right arm around her head, kissing her temple.

“When? For how long?”

“Friday, 8 p.m. to Saturday 8 a.m.” Anne hugged Ann even tighter by this.

She was struggling to see the justice in being strung by the wrists for 12 freaking hours, just for skipping school. It felt more appropriate for a thief or something, not her precious Ann.

Curious people walked past them on their way to dinner, staring, probably not all to use to seeing a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin hugging. Anne glared right back at them.

“Anne!”

Both of them reacted to hearing their name shouted. Striding up the lawn, Tib was approaching, clearly unaware of the inappropriate timing. Ann lowered her gaze to look at her own feet, anxiously trying to dry her tears away before she arrived, with Anne’s arm still around her shoulders.

“Hey, Anne, I was just wondering… is this a bad timing?” she cast a worried glance on the Hufflepuff girl, who shook her head.

“Oh okay, then. Anne, I was just wondering whether I could borrow that knife of yours?”

“What are you going to use it for?”

“I am going to break out of the dungeons on Friday. I don’t intend to _hanging_ around for 12 fucking hours. Pun intended, though.” She was grinning sarcastically, with anger burning in her eyes. Anne was reminded of why she had been almost frightened of Tib before they became friends.

“How exactly, Tib, are you going to use it while hanging by your wrists? Reaching down to your pockets, are you?”

“No, excuse you Anne, I’m not that daft. I’m having Sylvia breaking in and then breaking me out.”

“And then return you by 8 in the morning?”

They both paused, Ann was laughing. It was surprising, considering the hopeless mode she’d been in just a few moments ago. Anne was happy to see her a little better again. Her friend looked up from her shoes to look at Tib.

“You’re in detention, too?”

She shot Ann a beaming smile.

“Yes. I accidentally spoke my mind in Professor Greengrass’ lesson today. You know how it is.” Tib sat down on the lawn in front of them. “I suppose you’re going to be there as well, then? What for?”

The two of them started discussing their respective crimes and Tib’s grand escape-plan, reminding Anne strongly of two old cellmates in prison. She just sat there listening in, the worst detention she ever had was polishing the spare cauldrons in Potions class. Anne had regarded her and Ann’s friendship as quite unlikely, yet she had to admit, that Ann and Tib was even stranger.

“So, either way, Anne, I need your knife. And so does Walker.”

Anne sighed, “Yes, alright, Tib. Just because your brilliant plan worked out perfectly, I sort of owe you one.”

Tib’s eyes widened in that sense a mad scientist’s does, while Ann looked curious from Anne to Tib.

“I knew it was you, earlier. The loud bangs. But did you fool the Hufflepuff door?”

Anne turned scarlet red, she didn’t fancy thinking about _that_ part of the plan’s execution, but she hated telling Tib about showering in Vinegar. Ann was sniggering, which combined with Anne’s silence, Tib drew her own conclusions.

“Oh, Lister my daffy friend. My condolences. Now that I think about it, you do smell kind of sour, actually. And…” she had a suggestive grin, “You’re not wearing your own clothes.”

“Tib, I swear to God…”

“Well done, Lister, well done!” she said pompously. “But I got to run, I see my dear Sylvia coming to fetch me!” she stood up and ran towards a girl waving at them from the castle-door.

“She’s quite funny, your friend.” Ann looked at Anne with her perfect blue eyes, a little happier now, knowing she wouldn’t be left all alone in that dungeon.

“Yes, but she is also quite mad, honestly. Especially on the quidditch-field. She once smacked my head with her bat, not too hard of course, just to throw me off.”

“Oh, what did you do then?” she looked slightly horrified.

“I grabbed her, so we fell down together. It surprised her more than anything.” Anne smiled at the memory, and Ann smiled because her friend looked so sweet while talking.

“We should, probably, get to dinner now, Ann. I’m quite hungry.”

“Yes. I suppose you’re right.” She sighed but stood up nonetheless, quickly followed by Anne.

They walked up towards the castle, arm in arm. Before going inside, little Ann turned around to look down at the lake once more. She grasped a little harder to Anne’s arm and said,

“I wish we could sit together during dinner. I can never follow in Catherine’s conversations. Yours always interest me.” She looked serenely up at Anne, who couldn’t help drowning in those beautiful blue eyes.

The grounds were completely deserted, except for a doe and a kid by the edge of the forest. The only noise was the soft wind over the grass and the trees, in the distance you could make out the tiny waves of the lake crashing into the shore. The wind has finally turned cool, suggesting the approaching autumn.

It was almost dusk, the blue hour washing over the Hogwarts grounds. Overhead, the ¾ moon was shining, as did the sun in the west. The brightest stars could be spotted on the velvet sky. And Ann, shivering of the coldness, pressed herself closer towards Anne, still locking eyes. Anne was once again struck by the lovely scent of Ann, vanilla and something else, something flowery, and she realised this was the perfect time.

And so, she kissed her. Gently but firmly, hoping she hadn’t stepped over the mark. But Ann kissed her back, and those butterflies sprang to life in the pit of her stomach. She felt as if she was flying, wondering fleetly if she too had a connection to Holden. She embraced Ann more lovingly around her waist and tugged at her, wanting her closer.

It lasted forever but not long enough; Anne was yet again reminded of the fact that some eternities are smaller than others. They broke off the kiss to breathe and once again looking into each other’s eyes, the ocean blue meat the mahogany brown. Both of them broke into childish grins, Ann leaning her head on Anne’s shoulder, mumbling,

“I was hoping you’d do that eventually.”

Anne just chuckled and hugged her friend more closely.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry you guys it took kinda long to update... I don't know when chapter 9 is even gonna happen tbh, I'm in a slump

The week passed rather quickly, to Ann Walker’s let-down; although she didn’t speak of it, Anne could see she was anxious about the coming detention. She was distracted and jumpy, her leg was bouncing uncontrollably whenever she sat down. Regularly, she retrieved this dreamy, far-gone expression, which Anne had deducted meant a visit to Holden the bird. Whenever she was in this mood, it was impossible for Anne to reach her, so she on the other hand, just wanted this weekend to come and be done with it. It was a harsh way of seeing this, naturally, Anne knew it. Yet, she couldn’t help herself.

The rest of the school had gotten wind about Ann Walker’s soon-to-be trip to the dungeons, which resulted in the whispering getting more intense and worse than ever before. It goes without saying that this intensified little Ann’s self-consciousness, she rarely wanted to be at places with big groups of students nearby. Most of the time they would be sitting in the vacant room near Hufflepuff’s Common room, which Ann had claimed as her own, and played chess in peace and quiet.

And then came Friday morning; Ann was as pale as a ghost. Come Friday noon; even Catherine had to drop the pretence that it was all fine with Ann. Suddenly, it was Friday afternoon; they were sitting together by the lake. There was silence between them; Anne didn’t dare to talk in case her friend wouldn’t appreciate it.

The wind was howling around them; the past week seemed to not only bring Ann’s detention, but also the full strength of the British autumn. Anne had wrapped herself in her extra-long winter-robe, wind-proof, and her green scarf. When the raindrops started falling, she wished she’d brought her hat too. Ann, on the other hand, was severely underdressed, but didn’t appear to take notice of that. She hadn’t even known Ann was sitting here until she was attacked by an orange bird, urging Anne forward.

After her appearance five minutes ago, when Ann had said hello, neither of them had open their mouths to speak. Her Hufflepuff friend looked miles away, it worried Anne to say the least, she was red of the cold. She noticed that Ann was still wearing a normal robe despite the increasing autumn weather-conditions.

“Ann, please stand up. We can’t sit here anymore.” She said, as gently she could, while holding her own warm hand over Ann’s frozen.

“I am not going inside. Not yet.” It struck Anne how sharp Ann’s voice had been, not the normal, insecure voice, but steady and commanding. Well, at least something good might come out of this, Anne thought to herself.

“Alright, but I want you to stand up for just a second. Please.” Her friend looked up into Anne’s eyes, her deep, blue eyes full of sadness and fright. But she did as Anne had asked of her; she rose and stood face to face, a hint of curiosity in the apathy that was Ann’s expression.

Anne braced herself and removed her thick, wind-proof robe and hung it over her should before removing Ann’s pathetically thin robe, quickly wrapping her friend in her own, still warm. She was going to wear Ann’s, who already looked better, less frozen half to death. But for good measure, she also received Anne’s Slytherin scarf.

“So, better? Hmm?” she smiled to Ann, while grapping her by the elbows. Her Hufflepuff friend nodded.

“Thank you, Anne.” She said, and sat down again, looking over the steely grey lake, while the wind pulled in her hair and clothes.

Anne instantly felt the difference too, the down grade in robes was obvious. She followed Ann’s example and sat down beside her, making sure her friend blocked most of the wind. It helped marginally.

October was by far the worst month, because of its unpredictability. Everyone could count on November being awful and could so dress for it properly. The tenth month on the other hand varied between sunny, half-warm weather to full on winter, it could switch in one moment’s notice, ergo Ann dressing in her summer robe and Anne in her winter. An extra intrusive puff of wind made Anne frown disliking.

In her inner-pocket Ann had stuffed something flat and hard, its edge poking right into Anne’s 7th pair of ribs. With a cold and stiff hand, she reached into the pocket to retrieve the thing Anne suspected to be a book. Indeed it was, a dark-brown leather-bound notebook, a quite handsome one Anne thought appreciatively. The back of the book suggested frequent use, as did the clearly ink-stained papers filling half the book.

“Ann, what book is this?” she asked as she looked up.

Her Hufflepuff friend glanced side-ways down to the book, and then up to Anne’s face. It looked as if she was struggling with an internal monolog, before deciding she could tell her friend.

“It’s my sketch-book. I use it sometimes when I’m bored.”

“Oh. May I take a look in it?”

Another internal monolog. After a while she nodded, but took the book back; clearly, she wanted to be in charge over how much and in which pace this would happen. Anne wondered quietly what drawings her friend kept from her.

“They’re not really good, just so you know.”

“I doubt it.”

Ann smiled faintly and opened the book. Anne had never seen something like this; the sketched motives moved around the pages, carefully bending the lines Ann had so delicately made them of. It was mostly different kinds of birds flying, but trees and flowers occupied the sheets as well, bending carelessly in an imagined wind. Once in a while, small sketched seeds fell into the view, which the birds appreciatively pecked.

Anne glanced over to Ann as she turned page after page, revealing increasingly intricate drawings, she was clearly a little embarrassed mixed with delight and pride over showing her sketches.

“Ann!”

“Ye-yes?” she looked a bit bewildered over the sudden exclamation.

“They are brilliant! Why did you say otherwise?”

“Well, because art is very subjective, I guess.”

Anne just laughed, not quite used to this amount of modesty. Ann still looked a bit confused, but happy all the same.

“You look adorable, Ann.”

She planted a gentle kiss on her friend’s lips, if one could call her such. Ann instantly kissed her back, her spirit evidently heightened.

The coming detention was approaching with giant leaps, which made Ann’s anxiety return with full strength. When they made it up to the castle for dinner, after having spent the entire afternoon outside, both of them were trembling; Ann out of unease and Anne out of frostbite. The abrupt stop of the wind when they entered the castle almost knocked them over, since they had grown accustomed to walking in something that felt like a small hurricane. The warmth that swallowed them almost made Anne cry of gratitude, and the smell of dinner made her stomach lurch of hunger.

The Great Hall was only half-full, which meant dinner wouldn’t start yet, to Anne’s dismay. She walked over to the Slytherin table, sitting opposite Ann on the Hufflepuff-table. They shared little smiles, Ann somewhat reluctantly. A second later she disappeared in a sea of fellow Hufflepuffs, primarily her cousin and her friends. Over by the entrance she spotted _Charles Lawton_ , which could only mean one thing; Marianna was nearby. Indeed, a few metres behind that Lawton-boy came her friend Mary walking, as if they wanted everyone to know that they were **not** walking in here together. Frankly, Anne felt embarrassed for Mary’s account. She sat down next to Anne, seemingly in a very bad mood. Right before talking, she studied Anne with a suspicious frown.

“What are you wearing, Freddie?”

What an odd question, Anne thought, before realising she was still wearing Ann’s robe, with the Hufflepuff emblem on, not to mention the yellow and black Prefect badge. She sighed internally.

“I leant Ann my winter-robe and forgot about it.”

“Hmm.” She didn’t sound as if she believed that explanation, but frankly, she was allowed to believe what the hell she wanted, Anne couldn’t give a single fuck about it. “That is quite embarrassing, Freddie.”

“At least I didn’t do the walk of shame into the Hall.” Anne remarked casually with a vicious smirk. Mary simply stared at her, still frowning.

“When did we become like this, Fred. It’s not like us.”

“Well, it’s hard to say, really. A qualified guess on my behalf would be when you stabbed me in the back by cheating on me with that Lawton-fellow.” Still, she kept to the casual tone, but the smile was gone. Mary sighed and rolled her eyes, resting her apparently tired head in her palm.

“I can’t have this ridiculous discussion with you again, Anne. I simply can’t.”

“Sorry, for tiring you out with my endless tirade about the biggest betrayal since Brutus stabbed Caesar.”

“Stop with all that sarcasm. Can’t you have an adult conversation for just few minutes even?”

“Not the quasi-adult bullshit you’re trying on, no.”

“Fine.”

They fell silent, anger flowing in Anne’s veins, even though she had decided she didn’t care. Mary was looking bored, but with an annoyed wrinkle between her eyes, well, it gave Anne some comfort that she wasn’t all to pleased either. Headmaster Black had finally sat down at the staff-table, and she really thought she would be able to enjoy the rest of the dinner, when,

“I heard your little miss Walker’s in trouble.”

Nope, not even this dinner was to be enjoyed in peace and quiet, already onto their second dispute before the food was even served.

“What about it?” she tried to sound non-confirming while adding her boiled potatoes to her plate.

“That she is going to spend the night in the dungeons.”

“And how exactly, Mary, is that concerning you?” Marianna ignored her and kept going, apparently set on making Anne as hurt and angry as possible.

“It must be quite romantic for you, being so close?”

“Shut up, Marianna. I mean it.”

“Or are you scared that Norcliffe will make a move?”

Anne sighed loudly and rubbed her face with her still cold hands. Spending time with Marianna was as pleasant as an afternoon with a screaming banshee.

“Mary, why don’t you go back at being ‘the other woman’ to _Charles_ instead of questioning Ann’s and mine relationship.” Marianna flushed scarlet red, a small vindication for Anne.

“So, you admit, you have a relationship with miss Walker.”

It was Anne’s turn to blush; she opened her mouth to retort but hesitated. Did she have a relationship with Ann? They hadn’t talked about it. Marianna seemed to catch on quickly.

“Oh, you don’t know? Well, well, well, Freddie. You better hurry up with asking her then, because I have heard Ainsworth wanted to ask her out, and she doesn’t seem to be the most reliable person, does she?”

Anne was shaking with anger, gripping her knife and fork tightly, wanting for a fleeting second to jam the knife deeply in Marianna’s eye. Instead, Mary’s goblet exploded in a shower of metal-shards and pumpkin juice, drenching and cutting both of them, but mostly Marianna. The people nearby stopped talking and directed their attention to the two of them, in the corner of her eye, Anne could she the Hufflepuffs looking over, Ann standing up to see what the commotion was. Marianna whispered furiously,

“Now you’ve done it, Anne.” And then she marched out of the Great Hall, Lawton not even noticing, being fully focused on his girlfriend. Anne was inappropriately gloating, knowing that Marianna could never prove anything. She met Ann’s gaze and they shared a secret smile before the bustle of the Hall returned to normal. Anne brandished her wand and started cleaning up, noticing a deep cut on the upper wrist, caused by the goblet.

Immediately when she spotted the wound, she felt the sharp pain that followed it, which she hadn’t noticed earlier. She began inspective the rest of her upper body, aside from some minor scratches, there was only that one cut. A sense of weariness overcame her, especially since Ann hadn’t found the time to teach her those healing charms just yet, and as she was bleeding profusely, she had to visit the Hospital wing. After she finished her dinner, of course, until then it had to do that she pressed a tissue against the wound.

Anne had been so caught up in the whole bleeding-nonsense, that she had forgotten completely that it was today Ann’s detention started. At 8:00 she was still in the wing since the Matron, Dilys Derwent, was currently patching up Marianna, who had gotten quite a few more cuts, and a nasty eye-injury. Upon hearing the familiar quacking from her watch, the realisation hit her like a lightning. It felt like she was falling several floors down, which made Madam Derwent rush over, thinking Anne was about to faint.

Marianna was laying grumpily in her bed while Anne was being tend to. The matron had some difficulty healing the wounds completely, on the count of the refilling-magic the goblets were drenched in, the wound kept reopening itself until she managed to close it completely. She notified them both that it would most likely leave a scar; Marianna was fuming at this point.

“Wait here for a moment, miss Lister.” she walked away, suddenly busy with another ill student.

From the window to the ward, Anne could hear a faint picking noise. She turned around and saw an orange bird pecking its beak against the window, it was most likely Holden. Anne walked over to the window and opened it; the little bird jumped merrily into her outstretched palm. She lifted him up close to her face, and whisper,

“I’m sorry Ann, I couldn’t be there.” For a split second she could have sworn she saw something blue in the otherwise black pearls that was the bird’s eyes. “I’ll be there, tomorrow morning. I swear.”

Holden gave a reassuring twitter and flew out the window again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little fluff if you squint, and a lot of quidditch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait, I was struck down by writer's block. It is slightly longer than usual though, so don't hate me.

“So you’re not going to talk about it?”

The warm water which had them engulfed gave a few rippling waves as Anne sat up straighter. She patiently scratched her neck while shooting a wary glance towards Ann Walker, sitting opposite her in the giant pool in the Prefects’ bathroom.

“No, not really.”

Ann had just come back from a 12-hour visit in the dungeon; a visit Anne was sure was enough to upset her friend gravely. To be perfectly honest, it would’ve upset Anne herself too. It was therefore worrying that her friend refused to even mention it. The Hufflepuff girl was determinedly keeping her mouth shut, her lips in a tight line.

“I’m sorry, again, for missing to be there when it started.”

She had seen the pale expression of her friend Tib as she had exited the dungeon, her friend that usually laugh detention in the face, came out looking like she overconsumed fire-whiskey. It had been nerve-wrecking waiting to see Ann’s state, who walked out the last. To Anne’s great astonishment she had looked fine enough, not good or anyway near as happy as she normally is, but not as bad as Tib, or that Ravenclaw boy who seemed to be around 12.

“Well, you were injured, what else could you do.”

Now see, it sounded perfectly sane and Anne very much agreed to that, but there was this minor issue with not believing Ann actually meant it. Anne grimaced; it wasn’t always easy to deal with other, less frank people.

“How are your wrists?” Anne started, tentatively, “They must be…”

“They are fine.” Ann cut her off before she could finish, and it was perfectly apparent that the conversation was over. As she kept them underneath the water and the massive load of soap-bubbles, it was impossible to find out herself whether Ann was lying or not.

She sighed and directed her gaze towards the window instead. It was a cloudy day, but dry, so Anne was fine with it. It would be nice to play some quidditch later, if she could decide whether she would join the team or not. She decided there was no harm in playing for the try-outs; she might not even make the team at all.

“Ann?” she got a grunt as an answer, continued “I have to get going soon. Remember the quidditch try-outs? You wanted to see me play.”

“Is that today already?” she didn’t look interested at all to watch quidditch today.

“Indeed it is.”

“Aren’t you having lunch before?” Ann looked desperately at Anne, as if scared of letting Anne slip through her fingers again.

“No, I rarely have lunch. It usually makes an inconvenience in my schedule, so I skip it.”

“Oh.”

Shit, how can a person look so sad?

“I guess I could make an exception today, Ann, but then we have to get ready really soon.”

Her friend simply nodded and let her gaze wander out the window, she looked miles away. One can’t describe her as sad per say, she was more apathetic than anything else, continuously rubbing her wrists absentmindedly. This was indeed killing Anne, who groped around to find the one thing to say to make it all better again, but she simply searched in vain; Ann Walker was upset, and she would be upset for an unforeseeable future.

Breakfast hadn’t helped, despite Anne’s cheerful commentary about yesterday’s “accident”, nor had the bath with extra bubbles. Anne had kept up the small talk, despite hating small talk, despite always running out of topics, she had persisted. She was now running out of ideas, which started to freak her out a little. If there was something, it didn’t matter what exactly, as long as there was something she could do for Ann, she would. Hopefully, Ann understood that, with a bit of luck, she didn’t think Anne was just horsing around or didn’t put up an effort.

Sighing deeply, Anne rose up and climbed out of the pool. Her emerald green quidditch-robes lay folded neatly on the bench next to her white towel, which she wrapped closely around herself. She stared at her quidditch-attire, for once not feeling that exited lurch in the pit of her stomach. In the corner of her eye, she could see Ann getting out of the pool as well. Not even that caused a stir in her stomach; she could only feel a restless sadness. It made her annoyed.

They got dressed in silence, both ended up wearing in Slytherin-robes since Ann still hadn’t returned Anne’s winter-robe from yesterday. Good Lord, that felt like an eternity ago. With her golden hair still a bit wet, clinging to her face, dressed in a robe a little too long, with eyes coloured innocently blue, she looked adorable. Anne walked towards her to stand closely in front of her favourite person, so close their noses could touch. She hugged her Slytherin-disguised Hufflepuff friend tightly, realising her robes probably smelled awful since they hadn’t been washed in forever. Ann didn’t seem to be bothered, she simply leaned in more closely, resting her head against Anne’s chest. Little Ann relaxed distinctly in her embrace, it made Anne smile.

Minutes later, the hug ended. Tears were visible in those ocean-blue eyes. It was clear to Anne at last, how much pain her friend was in, despite stating the contrary. She looked deep into her friend’s eyes,

“Oh, Ann.” She said, while stroking her cheek. Ann closed her eyes and leaned into her hand. “I have some Murtlap Essence in my dorm. I can fetch it for you? Hmm?”

“It’s curious, you always seem to have that specific thing which could help me.”

“You have no idea how often I end up with cuts and/or abrasions, Ann. I live dangerously.” She answered, with a playful twinkle in her eyes. Ann smiled for the first time since yesterday afternoon.

Knowing full-well the bathroom was deserted except for the two of them, she gave her Hufflepuff friend a soft kiss on the mouth, which was returned immediately. Anne embraced her once more, resting her arm on Ann’s lower back, pushing her more closely. Her Little Ann with the softest lips and her scent of vanilla, kissing her was divine. She hoped, with her entire essence, that she would be able to kiss Ann Walker forever. The Hufflepuff was the first one to break off the kiss, she wrinkled her nose and chuckled a little.

“What is it?” Anne queried, amused, relieved to her Ann happy again.

“Your robes, Anne. They positively reek of sweat.” Her friend burst out laughing.

After a quick de-tour to the Slytherin common room, they were among the first to enter the Great Hall for lunch, and Saturday meant that lunch was more of a drop-in event. Both of them headed towards the Slytherin-table, it was surprising how little people cared about who were sitting where. The two Ann(e)s were therefor sitting at the end of the table farthest to the right*, Ann was carefully applying the Murtlap Essence on her injured wrists, two glowing red circles stretch around both wrists. Behind her blond head, Anne spotted Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black walk past, with his pompous head held high, as if riding in on his high horse. Anger surged through her veins, making her hands curl into fists. She hated him profoundly, there was no doubt about it. She followed him with her gaze, hoping that more goblets would explode, making him sure that she was after him, biding her time. But alas, her goblet-exploding powers seemed to be reserved for Marianna.

“Anne? What’s the matter?” Ann didn’t seem to have noticed the wretched man walking behind her, being preoccupied with her goulash-soup, but she did however sense the anger seething from her friend. Upon hearing her worried, soft voice, Anne calmed down a little bit. The Headmaster was on the other side of the Hall anyway.

“Nothing.” But Ann looked persistent, not believing her, so she added quickly, “I am just nervous about the try-out, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well, I am sure you’ll do really well.” She smiled cautiously towards Anne, with a red soup-moustache on her upper lip, looking so overwhelmingly sympathetic it made her feel bad over lying. Quickly, she decided to change the subject instead.

“So, does it feel better with the Essence on?”

“Yes, thank you Anne.” Her friend even looked more cheerful now. Christ, she should’ve thought of this earlier.

“Keep the bottle, I insist.”

“I’m going to argue with you. In fact, I was planning on stealing it in case you didn’t offer first.” Ann was positively beaming. Anne wanted to tell her just how adorable she looked, yet there was something holding her back, unsure what it was, she simply moved forward to grab the pot of potatoes instead.

Afterwards, they ate in silence, sharing secret looks and smiles. Anne felt yet again confident in her quidditch-robes, knowing Ann would be there to cheer her on, no longer was she wondering whether she just should drop this whole quidditch business.

“Oh!” Ann made a startling move, “Something is vibrating!”

“That’ll be my watch. It’s in your robes since I didn’t think it would be safe in mine.”

“How do I turn it off?”

“It’ll do that eventually. It means it’s almost two o’clock and I need to get down to the pitch. Are you coming with me?” Anne really hoped she would.

Ann had fished the watch out of the pocket, held it in its chain at arm-length distance, looking highly sceptical. It was vibrating so violently it swung back and forward as it dangled. The Hufflepuff looked from the watch, to Anne and then back, with one of her eyebrows raised. Anne struggled to see why any of this was strange, she simply took being punctual very seriously, this all made sense. Although she felt a bit as if she’s caught being weird, she also liked sharing her peculiar sides with Ann. It felt good, being judged in a friendly and amused way, and not in the way Mary used to judge her.

Eventually, the silver watch had stopped its business and Ann pocketed it again. They got up from their table and made their way towards the pitch, Anne with her broom over her shoulder, Ann helped carrying the bat. The weather outside was still cloudy, and the wind bore a hint of the coming winter, rapidly approaching. Ann wrapped herself closer in her Hufflepuff scarf whilst closing one more button on her Slytherin robe. It looked a bit mismatched, but Anne thought, that if it was one person who could bring to opposites together in a seamless fit, it was Ann Walker. She didn’t even seem to be bothered with the looked people cast her way.

It struck Anne, that there had been a shift since she first started school, the rifts between the Houses had deepen. She didn’t quite know when exactly, it had just slowly changed from a friendly rivalry into a more hostile competition. It seemed to Anne, that the Houses had become more polarised and it annoyed her, especially since people had started to divide them into who fits with who, and for some reason, Slytherin never matched with another House. Why couldn’t Hufflepuff and Slytherin fit together? Didn’t ambition, a Slytherin trait, require hard work, something connected to Hufflepuff House?

“What are you thinking about, Anne? You look miles away.”

“Just people being idiots.”

“That preoccupies your mind quite often. One might even start to think, that you think everyone is an idiot.” Ann sounded amused, evidently proud of her attempt to be sarcastic.

“I mean…” Anne started, but Ann just pushed her gently with her shoulder. They shared a smile, Ann blushed slightly. How curious.

They reached the pitch a minute later, Ann wished her good luck, gave back her bat and went towards the stands, while Anne made her way to the circle of eager Slytherins standing on the field. Her quidditch Captain gave a slight nod as a greeting, which Anne returned. As the captain shushed everyone and started explaining how the try-outs would be executed, Anne’s attention and gaze drifted towards the stands. By the centreline, her very own supporter sat perched and gave a little wave when she noticed Anne was looking at her. Anne got a warm feeling in her stomach.

“So, we’ll start with the Chasers. I am looking for two regulars and one reserve. You guys who aren’t playing as Chasers can go and sit over there in the meantime. Remember to keep yourselves warmed up though.”

Anne realised this would take an eternity. There were 12 keen potential Chasers ready, 10 of them would soon be very disappointed. She decided to use the time to eye-up the other Beaters, there were three others. She was the only girl, but it didn’t bother Anne much. One of them was in her own year and he was probably very strong, but she doubted he had the precision to be a skilled Beater. He had once entered a duel and in front of the whole school, missed his opponent and sent a jinx straight into the face of a bystander. It was quite unfortunate that it happened to be the Head Boy.

The other two seemed to be better opponents, they looked to be friends, as they were using their bats to pass a ball between them. It looked quite impressive right now, but Anne weren’t sure about either of them before they were in the air. They looked quite young, maybe second or third years, and could probably become quite good with practise. As Anne had become after five years of playing for the Slytherin team. She was, however, confident that she would nail the try-out and would be joined by either of those two, though if she were the Captain, she would bring both of them to the practises. Sooner or later, Anne would quit the team and have to be replaced by someone.

43 minutes later, Pishara Lestrange had chosen her Chasers. Nine of the original 12 looked sour as they went, sulking, off the field. One looked somewhat disappointed, and the appointed two looked delighted, talking excitedly about winning the cup.

“Okay, now we’re starting with the Beaters, so you who are trying out for that position gather ‘round me. I want the Chasers that made the team to stay, so we can try-out the Keepers later.”

Anne and the other three boys walked forward, while the three chasers sat down on the lawn and drank water, getting to know each other.

“No more than the four of you?”

“Clearly.” Anne responded. The Captain shot a glance at her. Anne wasn’t sure if she liked Pachira Lestrange or not. They often saw eye-to-eye, but perhaps they were too similar.

“Fine enough. Okay, so you’ll go up in the air one by one. I will release the two bludgers, which I have jinxed. One of them will attempt to shot you down, the other will try to hit a ‘team-mate’. I say team-mate with quotation marks, because it will be a green-coloured dummy on top of a broom circling the field and not actually a person. The bludger that’ll try to hit you are to be sent toward the red-coloured dummy, hitting it. The other bludger can be shot anywhere, as long as it doesn’t touch your dummy-mate. Questions? No? okay, you start.” She pointed at the boy from Anne’s year, Jeremiah Rawson.

He stepped trembling onto his broom and set off. When he was 10 meters (32 feet) up in the air, Lestrange set of the bludgers. Rawson sped forward to avoid the one trying to hit him, which he managed. He then manoeuvred around, trying to get into a more favourable position to hit it from. He didn’t quite succeed, and then realised he was supposed to protect his team-mate and sped off towards the dummy. A loud thud later and the dummy was protected, another thud later and Rawson was hit by the other bludger and almost fell off his broom. Anne could her Lestrange mutter “Jesus Christ…” under her breath while shaking her head. She blew her whistle and waved him down.

“You know what, Rawson? Don’t even bother to stay.” She told him, while he landed. He looked sad as he walked off the field. The Captain rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Lister, your turn. Show me how it’s done.”

Anne mounted the broom, feeling the excitement swell inside. She was suddenly wide awake, having the impression that her senses increased. Before flying off, she looked over to the stands. Ann had now stood up and leaned on the railing. Anne noticed that she had been joined by Tib and her _close friend_. She felt cocky, as she always did, in her constant playful rivalry with Tib. She pushed off and flew steadily up, she looked back in time to see Lestrange releasing the bludgers yet again.

She manoeuvred slightly, so that the bludger going after her passed her right side. With that one out of her concern for a few moments, she looked up to asses her situation. Her “team-mate” was on the other side with the bludger close on its tail. The dummy was moving towards her, whereas her own bludger was still going away from her. She would worry about that one later, she decided, as the sped off towards her dummy-mate, steering with her left hand and grasping the heavy, oak-bat with her right hand, almost laying down on her broom.

She knew it was going to be tight, but she was confident that it might just work. It was an odd risk, but those always made her feel alive. The dummy and Anne raced towards one another, they met and passed each other, so she straightened up on her broom, gripping it tightly with her thighs as to keep in control and balance. Suddenly the world felt as if it was slowing down, she raised her bat over her right shoulder, and took a deep breath as she saw the bludger speeding towards her. Still she was to far away, it needed to be a perfect distance, or she would get injured. The whole stadium seemed silent, or at least, she couldn’t be bothered with the sounds. As she knew the other bludger was probably right behind her, she wound need to steer away as soon as she knocked the other one away, or risk being hit from behind.

It all took milliseconds. She swung her bat and felt it hit the heavy iron-ball. The force of it radiated through her fingers up her arm, it would have broken her bones, had she not had protections around her lower arms, giving her support. But it was a success; the furious clump of iron flew away, saving her team-mate from that awful collision, it soared away and hit the goalposts, generating a loud metal clank, it calmed down and didn’t pursue another target.

While grasping her bat with her left hand still, she let her right hand grip the broom. She lowered her body, speeding up, as she manoeuvred down and to her right. When the bludger passed her left, she felt the wind of it ruffling her hair. She had almost been hit in the back of her head.

As the bludger kept steering left, she decided to go more to her right, increasing the distance to it until it realised where she was. She had to know where the red dummy was, so she dared to look back. She realised it was over her, but a few meters behind. A plan was formed quickly inside her head.

She looked towards the bludger; it was now slowing down so it could again zoom towards her, both going forward in two parallel lines. She kept her speed and direction, being an easy target for it. The iron-ball was speeding up, aiming for her yet again, as she flew upwards. When the bludger was 2-3 meters away, she was side by side with the red dummy. The iron-ball hit the dummy with a muffled thud as Anne dove down to her right. From a distance, she heard Lestrange’s whistle blow, signalizing the try-out was completed. The bludger become still, as the first one had, dangling in mid-air, while the red dummy landed hard, face-down on the ground. Anne herself turned 180° and flew towards where the Captain and the two other Beaters stood.

She felt immensely proud over herself, so when she landed, she couldn’t keep a satisfied and cocky grin from her face, certain she had done well.

“That. Is. What. I’m. Talking. About.” Said Captain Lestrange, as she punched Anne’s arm, looking pleased with Anne’s performance.

“But she didn’t knock down the dummy, she just let the bludger do the dirty work!” one of the boys exclaimed. Pachira Lestrange turned to look at him. She gave him a cold look as she said,

“Sometimes, a good strategy is to take advantage of the circumstances. And I have seen Lister play before, I darn well know she can fucking hit a bludger if she wants to, as proven by her perfect hit while protecting her team-mate. You don’t win by putting others down, Priestly.”

He looked sour and embarrassed, wanting to retort but thinking better of it. Lestrange turned to look at Anne again, and said,

“Either way, I have to give those two a fair change, but unless they play like freaking 'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn, _which I doubt_ , you’re in.” she hit Anne’s shoulder again, with a glowing excitement in her eyes. Anne felt the same winning excitement but wanted to share it with someone else that wasn’t Lestrange.

“Thanks, Captain, looking forward to it. However, may I leave? I have some homework for Transfiguration to do, it’s due Monday?”

“Yeah, sure. I plan to have a practise tomorrow though; I’ll confirm later that you’re in.”

“Great, good luck with the kids.” She hoisted her broom over her shoulder, Lestrange looked at all the hopeful Slytherins grouped in a large herd by the wall, sighed and said,

“I’ll need it. God, give me strength. Sigh. Okay, Priestly, you’re up. I expect to see at least two perfect hits from you.”

Anne chuckled and marched of the field. Ann Walker and Tib was already standing there, waiting for her. She straightened her back and plastered that cocky smile on her face again, happy to see her friends.

“Anne, you were brilliant, but I thought you were going to get yourself killed!” Ann rushed forward and gave her a tight hug. Anne just laughed, as if to say it wasn’t a big deal, but she hugged her Hufflepuff friend back. When they let go, Tib said,

“Good Lord, Lister, if you don’t make the team, I wouldn’t want to meet the player who had you beat.” She looked impressed, but she too, quickly plastered on that cocky smile, and continued,

“I mean, you guys will still lose though. As I said, I’ve practised all summer, and I’m not a dummy.”

“No, Tib, you’re right, you’re not a dummy. You are an idiot.”

Tib laughed as she said,

“We’ll see who the idiot is, Anne. The loser buys the winner butterbeer.”

“Fair enough.” They shock hands and then smiled. Anne knew that it was thanks to Isabella Norcliffe that she was good at playing quidditch, they always pushed each other to be better.

“So, anyway Tib, how was your Friday night?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *from the perspective of the teachers' table. It is too the far left if you stand by the entrance to the hall. Mea culpa

**Author's Note:**

> This story happened in the middle of the night, when I had lots of spare energy from the relaxed day I had, which I probably should've used to study for my drivers liscense instead. I can't say that I regret my decision though. I hope y'all enjoyed this fanfic almost as much as my girlfriend did!  
> The title "It's my party" comes from the song with the same titled, sung by Leslie Gore. The swedish version of it it's called "Living Life", which I thought were an excellent title for this fic.


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